


Kintsugi

by Dicax_Asina



Category: Ghost of Tsushima (Video Game)
Genre: A lot of jin’s internal monologues and him trying to figure himself out after the final battle, Also FUCK Jin’s kunai throwing techniques that shit b wack, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt and comfort, Jin and Yuna both help each other figure themselves out and grow, MAJOR spoilers for the ending of the game, Slow Burn, and how his relationship with yuna evolves (because that’s what he deserves ok), attempted suicide tw in one of the later chapters, basically a closer take at how jin would deal with the ending of the game, i only have an ending in mind so i’ll just see where the plot takes me, its sad samurai hours, jin dealing with loss and slight ptsd, kenji doesn’t know a lot but he tries to be a supportive friend and thats why we love him, soft and domestic babies, some whump here and there because i’m weak for that, there will be pining so get ready, trust me i HAVE a plot, while it is mostly character centric there will be a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 41,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27064816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dicax_Asina/pseuds/Dicax_Asina
Summary: “The ghost belongs to everyone.”“But Jin Sakai doesn’t.”In which Jin learns that mending what’s broken is perhaps the most beautiful art of all.
Relationships: Jin Sakai/Yuna
Comments: 180
Kudos: 226





	1. Chapter 1

It takes a second to sink in. 

Killing has become muscle memory for Jin. Stabbing a katana, shooting arrows, even slicing throats open from behind has all become an instinct. 

Yet, when he withdraws the Sakai tanto from Lord Shimura's abdomen, the weight of the world seems to rest on his shoulders alone. Every bone of his feels like it's about to crack.

He's killed his uncle. 

His adoptive father. The man that taught him everything he knows, made him everything he is — that same goddamn man slumps against Jin like dead weight. Because he is dead weight.

His uncle is dead.

By Jin's hands.

He glances down at his two balled fists, and the tanto, at the slashes across his own arms and torso, then, utterly terrified, his glance finds his uncle's corpse.

That is when he understands.

Tears well up in his eyes. Everything hurts; the crushing realization that this is only a fraction of the price he will pay settles in.

This was never his uncle's punishment. Watching Lord Shimura's blood-speckled face slowly lose color, seeing the blood begin to crust on the bright red leaves, having to deal with his hyperactive mind, which replays hours upon hours of dueling and talking and laughing together...This is his punishment.

He doesn't know how much time passes, however he feels his muscles ache from the way his uncle's dead body rests against him. Yet he doesn't mind. If anything, Jin is thankful for the peace that follows, for the way the leaves continue to fall around him, the way the wind still blows ever so lightly. It reminds him that the world continues its flow, with or without him and the ones he has lost. It's soothing...like a cold hand on an open wound.

"The bastard killed the jitō!" A male voice pierces the air, before an arrow comes flying the next second. It digs itself into the red leaves, centimeters away from Jin's ankle. "Don't let the Ghost get out of here alive!"

About fifteen men come running out of the cemetery.

He should've known, Jin thinks to himself. Of course the shogun's men would be hot on his trail.

Not even getting a chance to blink away his tears, Jin bolts up to his feet, his body protesting against every move. 

His uncle's body falls onto the leaf-covered ground.

I'm sorry, are the only two words on his mind. He abandons his uncle's corpse and whistles for Kage. A slash on his thigh begins throbbing when he slings himself over the stallion's back.

He ducks, chin against Kage's mane, and avoids another arrow.

"Leave his face untouched! The shogun wants his head!"

The golden reins almost slip out of his still blood slickened grip as he whips them.

Kage neighs, gallops towards the cemetery. The only way out aside from jumping in the lake. 

This won't go well, Jin thinks to himself as he wipes his right hand on the ronin attire and draws the katana once more. 

His gut makes no mistake. Only a second later, an arrow whistles past his head. Into his left shoulder.

To avoid tipping over from the impact, Jin has to take a moment to steady himself, which slows Kage down considerably. Before he knows it, unfamiliar hands grip his right arm and thigh. His back collides with the stone paved ground.

His usual nimbleness shines through in spite of his injuries. He drags himself up to his feet within seconds, using his katana as support. 

There isn't more time left for catching his breath, Jin has to deflect another katana's blow the second he's standing. 

His enemy stumbles backwards from the collision of their two swords. Jin uses that moment to his advantage and slashes his katana across the man's chest. Gurgling with blood, he falls to the ground.

"You want my head?" Jin speaks up, watches as the remaining warriors appear to be frozen in place. The man he has just killed must've been one of the most skilled among them to leave such an impact, Jin realizes. Good. He rips the end of the arrow stuck in his left shoulder off, then grips his katana tighter once more. "Come and get it!"

Doubt has already been seeded, it's palpable in the way one of the Shogun's men charges towards him. That gives Jin some much needed advantage, though not a lot of it. Luckily, he doesn't have to give his stance too much thought — all of his hunters are samurai, and thus, sword-fighters. 

The shrill sounds of metal clashing against metal, along with anguished screams is all that can be heard.

By the time Jin's managed to cut through about seven of the men, he's left panting, vision darkening, head spinning. Every move of his seems to drag, his hands and feet tingle with numbness. The feeling is familiar. Blood loss.

One of the men charges at him, the best he can do is dodge the katana. He can't lose. Not now. Not here.

But he can't defeat the rest of them. Not at this rate. 

Jin understands that killing his uncle may have been the last time honor has dictated his actions. Not anymore.

He finds his final smoke bomb, drops it. He may be as blind as his enemies now, but he's managed to get a rough idea of where almost every one of his enemies is. 

Another advantage he has over the men: he knows every inch of the cemetery. The hours of scrubbing gravestones and meditating here as a child pay off.

The second his surroundings start to gain color again, he catches sight of Kage. Climbing onto the saddle uses up some of his final strength. Fleeing was the right choice, Jin tells himself as he whips the reins. This time, he manages to make an exit without gaining any other injuries.


	2. Chapter 2

While the mongols are a brute, arguably terrifying force, Jin forgot what it's like to be hunted by his own kind. Even the slightest of sounds make him flinch and glance backwards. And every single damn time, the tip of the arrow still stuck in his left shoulder makes him regret it.

The moon is high in the sky, full and bright. If it weren't for the way his vision blurs and bones ache, he would like to spend it with some sake and good company.

Not like he has much good company left to speak of. Ryuzo, his uncle, everyone from before Komoda beach is either dead, or against him. 

Almost everyone, he corrects himself. There's Ishikawa, Masako, and...Yuna.

He would like to spend a night like this with Yuna, just like he did before the Yarikawa siege. 

In this very moment, however, sleep sounds the most alluring. Jin is convinced that if he would slip out of the saddle, he would fall asleep on the ground in the very first moment of impact. Even like this, slouched over, right hand placed over his shoulder, left hand holding the reins, his eyes threaten to fall shut. 

What stands between him and sleep is nothing but frigid fear. Jin cannot shake off the feeling that every step Kage takes might be their last one.

Sure, he has avoided roads, has wasted his stallion's precious energy on leaving foot tracks that would be particularly misleading to follow.

_But what if?_ , he thinks. What if, by some slim chance, among the few men he left alive and fled from happens to be an expert tracker? What if they've adapted to his ways just like the Khan had, and are now sneaking behind him, just waiting to strike?

Kage neighs, shakes his head. Jin lets go of his left shoulder and pats the horse's neck. "What's wrong?" he asks, without expecting an answer.

When he glances ahead, Jin understands just how unnecessary his question was. 

Mamushi farmstead lies right in front of them. Countless dead, incinerated bodies line the ground, some impaled like fish on a spear. 

The air smells like burnt meat and wood. 

He remembers the way Yuna had not been able to enter that wretched place. And the way he had made the Mamushi brothers bleed, for her.

He needs to return sometime soon, finish off the remaining mongols, free the slaves. He could tell Yuna about it, maybe she would recognize some of them. Or maybe it could help her to accompany him this time, give her some much needed closure to slit the mongols' throats—

Leaves rustle behind him.

Jin draws his katana, pulling on Kage's reins to make him turn around brusquely. The thumping in his shoulder and thigh makes itself known once again.

"Show yourself!" Jin demands, hiding the wince in his throat expertly. 

Nothing moves. Only a golden bird hops on the ground towards him, chirping. 

Sighing, Jin sheathes the katana.

This kind of paranoia will be the death of him.

With a flap of its wings, the bird takes flight, towards the forest behind him. Jin follows it with his gaze, expecting it to disappear between the trees. It doesn't.

It finds a branch, as if it wanted to make sure Jin could see, and starts chirping once again.

That gives him an idea. He would be more difficult to follow, would have the cover of trees, and would get away from the farmstead — riding into the forest sounds like a wise choice.

Jin spurs on Kage, lets the horse find his own way between the trees. The bird seems to be headed in the same direction as them.

Sleep creeps to him once more; he feels safe under the thick branches and leaves. Jin braces himself against Kage's neck, blinks slowly. Minutes pass while he loses himself in the soft rocking of the stallion's tired steps. 

By the time he threatens to tip out of the saddle, Kage stops in his tracks. The bird starts chirping, causing Jin to look up.

A hot spring.

—

After he has checked his surroundings for enemies, Jin seats himself beside the water. Although its warmth is alluring, he doesn't dare enter. It would be impossible to leave it once inside, especially in his state. Digging through his things, Jin finds some rags, which he dips inside the water. 

Judging by the way his shoulder hurts, it needs care most urgently, so he starts with it. Carefully, Jin undoes and peels away the kimono from the wound, wincing when he has to readjust the position of his arm to get it off fully. 

Whoever shot it was in a hurry. Only the sharp tip is stuck inside, which isn't longer than his thumb. 

Gently, Jin runs the rag over the wound, wiping at the crusted blood, and watching new one flow out. 

"Come on. You've had worse," he tells himself. Jin dips the rag back into the water, wrings it out, folds it, then puts it in his mouth. It's not much, but it will have to do. And it's certainly better than screaming his lungs out. Attention from enemies is the very last thing he needs.

He finds his tanto, fist tightening around the grip. The tip of the blade rests against his injured shoulder. Groans muffled by the rag, he slowly begins pushing it into the wound. New blood trickles down his arm, his ears start ringing. The wound burns.

Once Jin deems the tanto to have sunk deep enough, he takes a shaky breath. 

As carefully as he can, he twists it. The tip of the arrow isn't moving, and his vision flashes white for a second. 

The ringing in his ears is getting progressively worse, he feels like he's about to throw up. His body seems hot and cold at the same time.

Panting, Jin steadies himself once more. Come on, he thinks. You've had worse. This is nothing.

He sighs, blinks, grips the tanto. The very last thing he remembers is twisting the blade once more.


	3. Chapter 3

His hands are bound behind his back, he feels powerless. No matter how much he tugs at it, the rope around his wrists is unmoved.

"Kill him, and you can go." 

Jin recognizes that voice. Khotun Khan.

A cold tremor runs down his back, he looks up, trying to spot the khan, but is met with a much more familiar sight.

Taka stands in front of him, a katana in both hands, the slightest of tremors going through his arms. It's visible in the way the blade sways back and forth when he steps towards Jin.

Run, Jin wants to tell him, but his lips don't move. His body refuses to cooperate. When he's not more then a meter away, Taka's fearful expression becomes filled with rage. Without making a sound, he thrusts the blade forward. 

Jin can't scream. He just watches the blade sink into his own torso, between his chest and stomach. The pain burns, it feels so immense that it somehow turns numb.

He doesn't know why, but he can still breathe.

Taka lets go of the sword. His hands are shaking.

"This, Lord Sakai, is how much you mean to them now." The khan says, stepping forward. He sets his hand on top of Taka's head, almost like a father that wants to console his son. Then with the sound of bones cracking, Taka's body drops to the ground. Only his head remains in the Khan's hand. 

"How much more does it take," the Khan asks, stepping forward, "until you understand that fighting fire with fire only leaves more ashes behind?"

He holds Taka's head in front of him, so close that Jin can feel the blood dripping out of it on his own skin.

And then he drops it. The second it meets the ground, Taka's face becomes unrecognizable, yet turns into something much more familiar. Lord Shimura's head lays at his feet.

"Their blood is on your hands."

A hand grabs a hold of his right shoulder, and suddenly, he can move. 

Heaving, Jin bolts up, immediately regretting it. His head is spinning, his throat feels like sandpaper.

In front of him is another sight that has him sure he's dreaming.

Bathed in the pink, early morning light, some untamed strands of hair framing her face, she looks unusually sad.

"Yuna...?"

She's kneeling beside the improvised bed of rags he lays on. Her hand hovers above his uninjured shoulder, held back by his grip on her forearm. Upon realizing just how tightly his fist is wound around her arm, he lets go. Guilt settles in his stomach when he notices the red marks his fingers have left on her skin.

He can feel his wounds burn. The slash on his thigh and the injury on his shoulder especially.

"Yes." She confirms, moving to sit beside him cross-leggedly. "I really thought you weren't going to wake up this time." A poignant pause follows, Jin doesn't know what to say. Words are difficult to get a hold of when his head is ringing. "How are you feeling?" Yuna asks.

How is he feeling? He'll be damned if he knows. 

His emotions are hard to identify, but it feels like every sentiment he dreads is weighing down on him. He doesn't want to lie, but doesn't think his state is worth explaining. Not now. He doesn't think he has enough energy to put it all into words.

"I'm alive." He states the truth plainly. His voice sounds raspy, somehow just as dry as his throat feels. Yuna looks at him with an amused, somehow relieved glint in her eyes. She rises to her feet. "Do you have water?" Jin asks, though he quickly notices that his question was unnecessary.

Still, Yuna nods, returning from a corner of the building they are in, handing him a bowl with lukewarm water. She must've been able to tell how thirsty he was just by the way his voice sounded. 

Jin takes it in his uninjured hand, brings it to his lips and starts drinking like he hasn't seen water in weeks.

Yuna waits beside him patiently.

Once he has finished drinking, she speaks up. "What happened to you?" She nods at his bandaged shoulder and thigh. Her fingers graze his when she takes the empty bowl from him.

He remembers Lord Shimura's dead body, on the ground, among the red leaves. And the sight in his dream.

He suppresses an involuntary shiver.

"I did what had to be done." Jin wipes the droplets of water in his scruff on his forearm. When he draws in a breath, picking his words, Yuna lays a hand on his shoulder again, urging him to lay back down. His fingerprints on her arm have faded, he notes. 

"You don't have to talk about it now." Her voice is unusually gentle. "Go back to sleep."

As tempting as that sounds, Jin doesn't think he can afford it. He doesn't know where the Shogun's men are, but he can't have shaken them off. Not this easily. If anything, he's lucky they haven't found them already.

He may not be in decent enough shape to run, but he thinks climbing into Kage's saddle should be possible. 

"I shouldn't. We need to leave." Jin slowly draws his feet closer, props himself up on his elbow. "Where's my sword?"

"Nearby." Yuna says, but that's not enough of an answer for him. He sits up, tries to stand up. Unfortunately, he's unsuccessful. His injured leg isn't steady enough. 

"Careful." Yuna grabs a hold of his arm, attempts make him sit back down onto the improvised bed. When Jin won't budge, she sighs. "I didn't sell it this time, alright? Now sit. Before you make your wounds worse."

"The shogun's men have started following me," he clarifies. "After I—..." 

He doesn't know how to explain it. After he has killed his uncle in cold blood? Murdered all the family he had left?

"I know." Yuna clarifies. Jin draws in a breath, looks at her with raised brows. "How do you think I found you?"

Oh.

"How did you..."

"I followed them into the forest."

"How did you know to look for me here?" He asks. "The only thing I told you was that I was going back to Omi."

"I was headed to the mamushi farmstead." When Jin looks at her with curiosity, she adds an explanation, albeit short. "...for unfinished business."

"Did you finish off the mongols there all by yourself?"

Yuna shakes her head. "I barely got here when I saw the shogun's men entering the forest. I didn't get a chance to." She pauses, her eyes drift to his jaw. "They found you beside the hot spring, and were just about to cut off your head." She extends her hand, the very tip of her finger cold on the side of his neck. He feels his skin tingle, becomes aware of the small, horizontal cut she traces. It's not more than a nick of a blade. "This is as far as they got."

Jin clears his throat, shifting away from Yuna's hand. He puts his hand on top of the cut, sighs. "How many times have you saved me now?"

"Let's hope this is the last one. Knowing you, though..." Yuna draws her hand back towards herself, standing up. She squares her shoulders, then looks outside one of the windows. "I think it should be safe here. For now."

"Good." He nods, moving to lay back down. He watches Yuna as she pads towards the entrance of the worn down house they're in. 

"You should sleep. I'll see if I can make some food."

"I'm not hungry." He states. And it's true. He doesn't know when was the last time he ate, but even the thought of food sounds like a bad idea. 

"Doesn't mean you shouldn't eat."

He sucks in a breath, then lets it out slowly when he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder. "I know." Jin looks up, notices the hole in the roof above him. The early morning sky is a bright orange, but some stars can still be seen. He closes his eyes. 

The dark red on the inside of his eyelids reminds him of blood. His uncle's blood on his katana, Taka's blood dripping out of his skull; it reminds him of his dream.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep." He says.

"I know." Yuna looks at him sympathetically, like she understands exactly what he means. "At least try."

Jin moves so that the inside of his right elbow covers his eyes.

Their blood is on his hands, he remembers.


	4. Chapter 4

Jin awakes from a dreamless slumber when he hears the old cabin floor creak. Instinctively, he reaches towards his hip, where his katana would normally be. He finds nothing but his half undone hakama.

"It's me." Yuna speaks up as she approaches Jin's makeshift bed. He notices her carrying a pot, a sack of rice and a few apples. 

"You returned fast." Jin says, then corrects himself. "Or was I out for long?"

Yuna shrugs. "A few hours. Not more than half a day."

Better than Komoda beach, when he'd been out for a few days.

Jin yawns, back cracking as he slowly moves to sit up. The sun is high in the sky, he realizes. He wonders why it hasn't woken him up sooner.

There's a few stains of blood on Yuna's shirt, and it luckily doesn't seem to be hers.

"Where did you get the food and supplies?" Jin asks.

Yuna doesn't look at him, only drops the apples and rice beside him, then starts setting up the pot outside, near the hot spring. Jin hadn't realized that it was quite that close to the cabin.

Yuna has already gathered and stacked firewood, Jin notices. While not too long, he must've still been out for a considerable amount of time. It unsettles him, he feels particularly dependent and useless. 

"The mongols at Mamushi farmstead had more than enough food to spare." She finally clarifies once she manages to start the fire. "The slaves might get in trouble for it, though."

"Don't worry." Jin says. "The second I can run again, I'll take care of them. And of all the other mongols left on this island."

"The ghost never sleeps."

"He just did." Jin states. Yuna huffs in amusement.

He can hear the clank of the metal pot as she pours rice inside it, then water on top. "I don't think he'll make a habit out of it," she argues, a smile somehow subtle, yet very much present in the tone of her voice.

Silence falls over the both of them. 

It doesn't take long until he can hear the water start to boil, and Yuna begins stirring the rice every once in a while. It's a peaceful sight: the way her dark brown ponytail slightly sways with the wind; how she appears so lost in thoughts of her own. 

Jin treasures those little moments, subconsciously crams them into some faraway corner of his mind. Watching Yuna do something so domestic evokes an emotion similar to petting a fox, running his hand through pampas grass, or drinking hot tea. The world seems to be slowing down, somehow at peace.

Feeling like his gaze has rested too much on her, Jin glances at the apples she had also brought with her.

Suddenly, he suffers a pang of conscience along with a realization. 

"I'm sorry," Jin speaks up. Yuna turns to look at him over her shoulder, a brow raised questioningly. "You had to go back in there by yourself," he clarifies. "I should have done that. Not you."

"The Mamushi brothers are dead. And the mongols don't scare me." Yuna doesn't look up from the pot, apparently too focused on the rice. Her hair hides her expression.

"I understand." Jin clears his throat and moves to sit. He finds his kimono nearby, hung up to dry. Yuna must have washed it, he realizes once he slips it over his uninjured shoulder. The material is still slightly damp. 

Once his kimono is put on properly and his hakama tied, he reaches up to his to undo his messy topknot. He cards his fingers through his hair, untangling the knots that have formed over the past few days.

Yuna enters the house, careful to step over the broken doorframe. She holds only one wooden bowl, which she places on the ground in front of him. 

Jin frowns. "What will you be eating?" 

"Don't worry about me," she says. "The rice is enough for the both of us, but I only found one bowl. I'll eat after you." She nudges his portion of food towards him when he makes no move to pick it up.

"I'm not hungry," he insists. 

"Don't tell me I have to pour it down your throat myself."

That leaves nothing to be argued with.

Jin sighs. He picks up the bowl, albeit unwillingly, and starts eating.

It's just plain rice, but he can't remember the last time he had anything that could be considered a dish that took much effort to cook. Besides, he has never been the kind to have rigid preferences for food. As long as it's not rotten, it's good enough.

Yuna fetches an apple for herself, and unsheathes her knife to start cutting it into pieces.

The sound of a blade digging into fruit sounds only a little more rigid and less wet than siking a blade into human flesh, Jin thinks. For a second, he can feel the grip of his tanto in his fist, and remembers Lord Shimura.

He feels like he's about to throw up half the portion he's already gulped down. Gripping the bowl more tightly, Jin takes a deep breath to steady himself. 

His mind is playing sadistic tricks on him. He needs to get it under control.

His throat feels like it's being tied into a knot. It doesn't matter what he focuses his glance on, all that he can think of is his uncle. The warm blood on his hands. His unmoving, expressionless face. The leaves.

Yuna puts down the blade, taking a bite from one of the pieces. "Is something wrong, Jin?"

He shakes his head no, closes his eyes, and brings the bowl to his lips again. 

Hin finishes the portion quicker than he thought he would, though he barely feels different from before. There's still an empty pit in his stomach, right below his diaphragm. However the knot in his throat is gone, just like the nauseous feeling, and he feels like he can focus on his surroundings once again.

"Is it true that they serve fish and seafood at every meal in the castles and estates?" Yuna asks out of nowhere. Blinking, Jin frowns, looking at the empty bowl in his hands.

"I...don't know." He says. "Depends on the castle, and on the servants. Where did you hear that?"

"It's what my mother always used to say when we would have fish with rice." Yuna smiles fondly, yet her expression feels somehow bittersweet. "Taka loved it. I learned to fish just to see him smile after he would eat even the last crumb of rice on his plate."

Jin can't suppress a lopsided smile of his own. 

"Who taught you?" he asks.

"A fisher that lived near us. He had a soft spot for me and Taka, since his wife and son had both died during childbirth. Before I he taught me to fish, he would give me and Taka the scraps of what he couldn’t sell."

"Sounds like an honorable man." Jin says. He holds out the empty bowl for Yuna, she takes it and walks over to the pot to refill it.

He hopes that one day, he will be able to think of kinder, brighter things when he thinks of Lord Shimura too. Right now, however, even taking his mind off of him proves to be difficult.

"Do you know how to fish?" Yuna asks as she sits down in front of him. She holds the rice bowl in one hand, and holds out an apple for Jin in the other. 

"No." He says, waving off her offer at the same time. Still, she sets the apple down in front of him in case he changes his mind. "I would sometimes watch Taichi, one of the men at the Sakai estate fish, but I never asked to be taught."

"Would you like to learn?" Yuna is careful with her words, but they require no reading between the lines. He likes that about her.

Jin nods. "We can go tomorrow morning. We're not too far from the coast."

Yuna huffs. "You can barely stand, Jin." 

"We can take the horses and ride slowly," he explains. "But you need to teach me how to make a fishing rod, too."

Yuna smiles. "And here I was, hoping to see you catch them with your bare hands."


	5. Chapter 5

His entire body feels like it's about to freeze. Jin wakes up drenched in sweat when it barely dawns. He can't remember the last time he felt so tired in spite of sleeping for so long.

The thick coat Yuna had rolled up and used as a pillow to sleep on beside him is gone. So is she. All that remains is a peace of paper, with the apple he hadn't eaten the day before placed on top of it to hold it in place.

**_Went to Ichi's inn. If she doesn't have what we need, I might take longer._ **

**_Yuna_ **

Sighing, Jin rubs his eyes then pinches the bridge of his nose. His throat is dry, so much so that it's uncomfortable to breathe. The wound on his shoulder is pulsing, and when he touches it, he has to suppress a flinch. It's swollen, more than any injury should be under normal circumstances.

"Damn..." Jin whispers through gritted teeth. He needs to find a way to warm up, and fast. The first idea that he gets is the hot spring, but he quickly discards it when he remembers just how much his wounds would sting and hurt from the water. Besides, he's not sure if it would help the building infection either.

Glancing outside, he finds another solution. Kage rests on the ground, legs folded below himself and head laid down in the grass. He must be warm, or at least warmer than Jin is.

He crawls towards the nearest wall, then props himself against it as he rises. There's a limp in his step, but at least the slash on his thigh shows no signs of infection.

Kage neighs softly when Jin reaches his side, lifting his head to look at the samurai. Sighing, he plops down next to his horse, resting his back against the animal's side. Kage only closes his eyes and goes back to sleep, and soon enough, so does he.

\--

He doesn't even want to remember what he's just dreamt. It's so obscure, so utterly out of this world, that Jin fears he's lost his mind for a few moments.

He wakes up to a cool hand placed on his forehead. He doesn't have to open his eyes to know it's Yuna, but he does it regardless.

"Gods, you're burning up."

It doesn't feel like it, he wants to say, but abstains from it. He still feels like he's running around naked in the Kamiagata snow.

"Come here." He feels an arm snake around his waist, careful to avoid the small cuts on his skin, before the grip turns more stable. He's being hoisted up to his feet, but without Yuna supporting his weight by putting his arm over her back, he knows he would fall like a puppet without strings. "What were you doing out here?" she asks.

"I was cold." He rasps.

He can barely keep his eyes open, but he tries. Yuna has done far too much for him already. If there are any other ways he can avoid burdening her, he'll take them.

Though having to drag him around is obviously nothing new to her.

"Sit here." Yuna instructs once they make it inside the broken house again. The makeshift bed from before is gone, replaced by a mat. "Ichi gave us two tatami mats. Well, the one for you was free of charge, actually."

"She still hasn't forgiven you?" Jin says, though he doesn't put that much thought into his words. If anything, he's stating the obvious, but he would feel bad for keeping silent. Yuna helps him lower himself to sit on the mat.

"She can appreciate what the _Ghost_ has done for her."

"What _we_ have done." Jin corrects, then crosses his arms over his chest. It worsens the pain in his shoulder a little, but he can't keep himself from shivering.

"Do you still feel cold?"

Jin answers with a quick nod. He can hear her cuss under her breath.

Yuna leaves his side for a second, returning with a blanket she drapes over his shoulders. She rubs his uninjured arm in an attempt to warm him even more, but he can't claim it helps by a lot. However her intentions are still appreciated.

"Which wound got infected?" She asks, pacing around the house. "Thigh, shoulder, or both?"

"Shoulder, I think."

She returns, kneeling in front of him, and pops open a sake flask. Another container he can't identify is also set down nearby.

"Show me."

Languidly, he reaches to undo his kimono, but stops when Yuna places her hands atop his and takes over. She cuts away the knot of his bandage when it won't loosen, then starts unrolling it. Her sharp inhale once his skin is bare tells Jin all he needs to know.

"How bad?" He asks.

Yuna avoids the question. She grabs the sake flask and a rag, which she soaks in alcohol. "Hold still." One cold hand grabs a hold of his shoulder, careful but firm. "You can squeeze my arm if that helps," she adds.

Willingly inflicting her any pain is out of the question. Jin shakes his head no.

"Just don't hurt yourself," she tells him, rag in hand, hovering above his wound. "Here goes."

Jin hisses at the sensation, tenses, but at least he's thankful for the burst of adrenaline that surges through him. It takes a minute or two, but once the burning fades, he feels a little more awake.

Yuna glances at his face as she wipes at the wound.

"Ichi also gave me honey. That'll kill the infection." She grabs the other container Jin couldn't identify and pops it open.

"She gave you a lot of things." Jin says. It's an observation; he's genuinely curious how much Yuna had to pay for everything. The least he can do is take care of the financial damage he's caused.

"Everything aside from the second tatami mat was for free. So...pretty much everything that is for you, Ichi gave away without hesitation."

Jin shudders involuntarily. Is that just how much power the Ghost has over the people?

Yuna places her thumb and pointer finger on each side of the wound, spreads it open, then pours honey on top. It stings, but not nearly as bad as before.

"Why?" Jin asks.

"Maybe she feels like she owes you." Yuna gives a half shrug. "I'm just happy I got what I need to heal you. I thought you might burn up a fever sooner or later."

Jin frowns, looks at the way Yuna's lips curl when she's focused on evenly spreading the honey over his injury. He feels uneasiness well up in his stomach, and swallows thickly.

"Do you feel like you owe me?"

Yuna looks up at him, at first with a glance that practically says ' _can you stop asking me pointless questions when I'm working on saving your life?_ '. But she knows to read between the lines. Much better than he does.

Her expression softens. Even one corner of her lips seems to be perking up, but Jin could only be imagining it. He can only trust his hazy mind so much.

"You think so because I'm trying to care of you?" she asks, and Jin shrugs with his healthy shoulder, then looks away.

Yuna shakes her head with a sigh that can't be deciphered, then falls silent. She finds the bandages, begins wrapping them around his shoulder. They adhere to the wound even more tightly now, thanks to the honey.

"Aside from the fact that dragging you away from danger and patching up your wounds has started to become a habit, no." Yuna quips, looking at him through her lashes for a split second before focusing back on the bandage. "I don't feel like I owe you, Jin. I just really don't want you to die."

He feels warm inside. Not the feverish kind, but one that is gentle and pleasant.

Jin smiles at that, albeit lopsidedly. "I'm sure you'd find new people to befriend on this island when Kenji becomes too annoying."

Yuna shoots a smile of her own back at him. "With my personality, I wouldn't get my hopes up."

"I don't know." Jin looks at her nimble hands as she ties the bandage into a knot at the top of his shoulder. "I like you well enough."

He didn't think that through. He did not think that through well enough, it came out wrong, and the way Yuna pauses only confirms it.

Jin doesn't think he's ever seen her at loss for words, at least not for longer than one or two seconds.

"The fever's gotten to your head." She suddenly tells him, then gently pushes him backwards. "Lay down. I'll change the bandage on your thigh, too, then make you some tea. Do you still feel cold?"

Jin shakes his head no, and does as he's told. The pillow Ichi has given him is much more comfortable than the rice sack he had used the night before.

Yuna works in silence as she rolls up his hakama, cuts the bandage on his thigh open, then spreads honey on the cut. A few minutes pass, but Jin feels peaceful. His muscles sometimes flutter with fatigue when he changes the position of his leg to make her work easier. He doesn't think he would trust anyone else so blindly, except for her. Her and Yuriko, he corrects himself, but then remembers that Yuriko is dead too.

It hits him that he has nothing and no-one left. He hadn't even put that much thought into it, not until now. The estate is gone, so is his uncle, Yuriko, everyone.

"As long as we continue to change the bandages, you should heal just fine." Yuna says, sitting back on her knees.

Staring up at the ceiling, Jin swallows back forming tears. Within seconds, he regains composure, voice steady when he speaks.

"Thank you, Yuna."

She only smiles.


	6. Chapter 6

The Genmaicha tea's gone cold. Jin holds the wooden bowl in both hands (Yuna forgot to ask Ichi to borrow them another), looking down at the light brown liquid. The sky, now a dark orange, reflects itself in the tea's surface.

Yuna's outside, having just returned from a hunting trip. Even though Jin insisted he didn't feel hungry, and that plain rice would be just fine. He's glad she hasn't checked on him yet, he suspects she would scold him for barely touching the drink.

Somehow, he just can't. He knows he's stuck staring at it like a man that has fully lost his mind, but he can't make himself stop.

His uncle loved tea. Mecha, to be exact. While Jin preferred sweeter teas, his uncle had a predilection for a strong aroma, and his favorite usually left a leafy, bitter aftertaste.

He never liked to drink it, never managed to get used to the taste, but he remembers always obliging when Shimura would offer to have tea together. Jin remembers seeing him smile like a fox whenever he would finish the cup and pull a strange face.

When was the last time he had even seen that smile? Had _made_ him smile?

"Don't tell me you've let it go cold." Yuna leans against the doorframe, dark red rag in her hands as she wipes the blood on them away. He hasn't seen her looking quite that relaxed in a while; it's a pleasant sight. He finds himself caught by it for a moment before he answers.

"Hm? No." He lies, bringing the bowl to his lips and taking a sip.

It's clear as day that she doesn't believe him, but she says nothing more about it.

"How's the wound?" She asks instead, approaching him.

"It still hurts, but it isn't as swollen anymore."

Yuna stops in front of his sitting form, crouching, then brings the back of her palm to his forehead. He feels only a small temperature difference, and, judging by her expression, so does she.

"Your fever's gone down, too." Rising back to her feet, she walks back outside, to her horse, opening the saddlebags. "I have something to do for you, if you want. Unless you'd like to catch some more sleep before the food is finished—"

"No." After his fever got better, he couldn't close his eyes. Busying his mind with something sounds like a good idea. Jin moves towards the wall, uses it to stand up. By the time Yuna returns, he's already waiting by the entrance. "What can I do?"

She holds a thick branch, which is almost as tall as her.

"I saw an ash tree while I was out hunting. It has sturdy, flexible wood. If you want to help, you can peel this, then carve it." He raises a brow, not quite understanding, but taking it from her when she holds it out. "We'll leave it to dry for a day or two, then use it as a fishing rod." In her other hand, she shows him a string and a fishing hook.

"Have you done this before?" Jin asks, inspecting the branch closer, bending it with both hands. He regrets it, shoulder stinging from the small force he applies. However, the wood does seem flexible enough.

She just nods, then returns outside, tending the roasting meat. Jin limps after her, plopping down beside the campfire. He suppresses a wince when he starts to feel his heartbeat, along with a slight sting in his wounds after the impact with the ground. On top of that, he also catches Yuna looking at him with slight amusement.

She takes the blade from her belt, flips it, then hands it to him. "You can use this."

"Are you sure you haven't sold my Katana again?" He asks as he takes it from her, and she rolls her eyes.

" _Yes_ , I'm sure. I hid it under one of the loose floorboards in the house when I had just rescued you."

He feels inclined to apologize for that again, but abstains. Yuna would only look at him with a frown and tell him to stop worrying, he's sure of it.

So, deciding that the best thing to say is nothing at all, he takes the branch and gets to work.

It's not a difficult task, but he supposes that's exactly what makes it so calming. When he was just a boy, he would hate things like this — scrubbing gravestones clean, polishing his father's armor. With age, he has grown to know how to appreciate them, and the way they let his thoughts roam free in a way that doesn't get tiring.

His mind drifts to his father and Yuriko when he feels the wind suddenly pick up.

He remembers feeling weirdly...uncomfortable, after he had read between the lines of Yuriko's final words. His father, together with a commoner? Had he not loved his mother enough? Had he just gotten lonely?

Before...well, he can't pinpoint exactly until when, but he recalls thinking of many commoners to be close to animals. With a weird sense of elitism, he would look down at them, consider them unable of the self-control and complexity he had. If they acted out of anything, it had to be out of carnality or animalism. His friendship with Ryuzo hadn't done much but confirm his viewpoint, then.

But he understands, now better than before, that the code he had considered to be what put him so highly above the others nothing more than a constriction. It never was about honor and discipline as much as it was about control. The control other, more influential men would have over him.

With enough thought put into it, his father's relationship with Yuriko doesn't seem as outrageous anymore. It doesn't matter that he never got the chance to know his father through the eyes of an adult. If anything, he understands how valuable it is to have someone to lean on.

His eyes involuntarily drift up to Yuna, and she catches him staring at her.

"What is it?" She asks, amused glint in her eyes. "You look like you've just swallowed a frog."

"It's nothing." He says. "I was just thinking."

She's hesitant, but he can practically feel a question coming. "About?" Yuna's now looking away from him, focused on turning the meat over the fire so that it roasts evenly.

He hesitates too, but works up the courage to tell her. "My father."

It's an untouched topic on his side. Yuna has talked about her family and background openly, but for him, this is uncharted territory.

Yuna hums. "What was he like?"

Was uncharted territory, Jin corrects himself. He takes a second to pick his words, to describe his father as fittingly as he can.

"He was gentle, but silent." When he notices Yuna's attention on him, he continues. "I don't remember ever hearing his laugh, or seeing him smile."

She has turned back towards her fire; he can't read her expression. "Sounds a bit like you."

"I _do_ smile." He says, and Yuna huffs.

"I _know_." She looks at him like she's about to say something smart. "I remember your face when I found you on the beach after you'd killed the Khan. If that's what it takes to make you smile, no wonder you do it so rarely."

"You'll just have to wait for another mongol invasion." Jin says it like it's nothing, though even the thought of it terrifies him. But that doesn't keep him from coming up with more to say. "I remember you looking like you were about to cry back then—"

Yuna smiles playfully, picking up one of the pieces of bark he had peeled and throwing it in his direction. "Because I was _worried!_ "

Jim dodges her attack, and realizes he's smiling only after he sees Yuna's grin as well.

She looks back at the meat, shaking her head with a sigh. "It looks like it's ready. Let's eat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuh so this was mostly filler and probably boring so sorry about that but I do hope you enjoyed anyway. I just need to give these two some more quiet time. They deserve it, ok?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning: there will be mentions of and also an attempted suicide in this chapter.

He wakes up angry, with a scream that catches in his throat and ends up being nothing more than a sharp exhale. It's better that way. Yuna doesn't deserve to be suffering of sleeplessness just because he is.

The moon is high in the sky, brighter than usual. It has barely changed positions from where it seemed to be before Jin fell asleep, which makes him sigh with exasperation.

Rest has been scarce for him the past few days. Him and Yuna still haven't gone fishing, mainly because he's still slightly wobbly on his feet, and she wants to avoid exerting him. Their sack of rice is running out, too, but it's an issue neither of them has addressed yet. And, if he's being honest, a break from being forced to eat every day wouldn't bother him.

He decides quickly, _impulsively_ , as his uncle would scold him, that he needs to get out. _Now_.

He's looked at these same four shabby walls for about ten days straight. A change of scenery is needed, or he's going to start feeling like he's suffocating.

Yuna is a light sleeper, but she has gotten used to him tossing and turning every the night. That gives Jin some much needed advantage when he stands up, relying on his healthy leg when the injured one starts to hurt. While not as nimble on his feet as before, he doesn't need to use the walls to lean on when he walks anymore.

He also thanks himself for taking out his katana from below the creaking floorboard the day before. Now he only has to pick it up from beside the entrance, instead of having to risk waking Yuna up. He didn't take out the tanto from under the floorboard, though. He doesn't know why, but he couldn't bare to look at it. He's not worried; in the unlikely event that he gets attacked, just his katana will suffice.

Kage snorts with surprise when Jin pats his neck to wake him up, but moves to stand without making a ruckus. He grabs his reins, then guides him out of the glade.

Jin doesn't dare trying to climb into the saddle just yet. If he were to fall, he would risk making too much noise.

He only stops when the Mamushi farmstead is in sight. His leg is pulsing, but at least not hurting.

With careful hands, he grips the saddle horn, steps on the stirrup with his left foot first (something he rarely did before), and, with much less grace than usual, somehow climbs on top of his horse.

Kage starts trotting, and Jin does nothing to correct his direction. He doesn't care where his horse will take him, he just needs to clear his head.

He can't remember the context of what he dreamt, other than the sting of a slap on his face. And his uncle, looking at him with an unreadable, somehow disgusted expression.

It doesn't take hours of meditation to figure out what his subconscious was trying to remind him of.

If his trust for Shimura had been a stone, that moment would have caused the first big fissure out of many small ones. Before that, part of him had still hoped his uncle would understand the lengths he was willing to go for the people on this island. Maybe not join him, but at least let him do what needs to be done. Jin would have never forced his uncle's hand. Just looking away would've been enough.

How naive he was, back then, to think Shimura would be willing to bend the code. For _him_. How stupid.

And how stupid, _how utterly stupid_ Shimura was, for not even trying to do so, or at least understand.

What put honor so highly above the lives of their own people? What put it so highly above Jin?

Did the code matter so much more than the child Shimura had raised? Did honor matter more than what he considered his son?

Or was Jin just not even enough to begin with?

He draws in a trembling breath, silencing his thoughts as he grips the reins more tightly, but doesn't pull.

He knows his uncle would have killed him, if Jin would have been the one to lose their duel. Or he thinks so.

What if Shimura had won?

Would he have just let Jin go, then commit seppuku as a cost for his failure? Would he have killed Jin first, then not been able to live with it? With himself? With the blood of his adoptive son on his hands?

What makes Jin able to live with what he has done?

He doesn't know why he fought after the Samurai attacked him, but he knows that something inside him was not yet ready to die.

As dishonorable as that sounds.

Had Shimura understood that the end, just this once, did in fact justify the means, he wouldn't be here. He would be someplace warm, fast asleep, not feeling this _angry_ , this _sad_ , this _sick_. Sick at himself, because when he had to pick between his uncle's life and his own, he picked his. Without hesitation.

How is he ever supposed to sleep well ever again when he found out just how deep his egoism runs?

What if it never was about the people of Tsushima to begin with? What if that's what he had told himself, when in reality, he just wanted to be the one regarded as their savior?

He drives the thought away. It doesn't sound right; he never did it for praise, or love. He did it to have a clean conscience, to know that, at the end of the day, he had done everything in his power to save as many of his own people as possible.

 _Aside from my uncle, which I've killed in cold blood,_ says an intrusive thought. The worst part is that it makes a good point.

What justifies killing his uncle? Jin frantically searches his mind, and, in spite of not being able to recall that moment in precise detail, he remembers thinking it was about honor. About granting his uncle his final wish to die in battle.

Had he really prevented Shimura from seppuku, or taken a life that did not need to be taken?

Jin thinks it's raining, but when he looks up at the sky and sees that it's spotless, he realizes he was crying. Sniffling and straightening his back, he blinks away the tears, looks around. Kage has been walking for a while, they're at the Kushi grasslands.

The fields are quiet, much unlike his head, perfect white and green swaying with the wind like ocean waves. He stirs Kage away from the path, and leans to his right, reaching out to run his hands through the pampas grass. However, after a second or two, his injured leg gives in, and he topples over into the grass.

Jin finds himself laying on the ground, arms splayed out, white and green everywhere around him like a never-ending pillow. He wants to get up. He really does, but he can't convince himself to do it.

Not when the world stops, quiet, as if it were waiting for him to wring his heart out and scream about everything that hurts.

Why did he kill him? Couldn't he have just continued down a path that isn't dictated by honor, and let Shimura die by his own failure and hands?

Then again, wasn't his uncle deserving of a death that granted him at least one final ounce of peace? While he had abandoned the code, was it not fitting for his uncle to die by it?

But who was he, to decide how his uncle dies?

And what peace is there to speak of, without a funeral? He had left his body on the ground, among the leaves, like a dead animal. He had ran from the Samurai, like a coward.

 _How low I am_ , Jin thinks to himself, _to have left him behind like that._

Did he kill his uncle to protect Shimura from himself, or because he was so dead set on survival? And if it's the latter, what the _fuck_ is he surviving for?

Should he have ended his life after he had ended Shimura's? Would that have been fair? Would he have felt less pain, less guilt, less hate?

Can he make it up to his uncle now?

He draws his katana, hand shaking, flips it so that the sharp tip rests against his diaphragm. It's too long for him to be able to hold it by the grip, both hands are wrapped around the blade. If he were to push it, he could make things right. A life for a life. And the pain would stop, once and for all.

But he can't.

He can feel his heart beating out of his chest, he can feel the blood starting to trickle out of his palms from how tightly he holds the blade, he can feel himself breathe, he's _alive_.

It can't end like this.

He can't leave Yuna all by herself.

With a stuttering, fragile sigh, he lets the katana drop to the ground next to him.

He covers his face with his bloodied hands, body tensing with all the hate and desperation and confusion and sadness he's feeling. And then he _sobs_.

Jin wants to scream that he hates Shmiura, and himself, or even just scream, something, anything, all he knows is that he feels like he's suffocating.

Crying in silence turns out to be just enough. He lays on his back, staring up at the sky, letting his tears flow freely.

He doesn't hate Shmiura. He doesn't think he ever could.

But he's angry. At himself, at the code, at his uncle. And for the first time in years, he allows himself to be angry.

By the time the sun begins to rise, even though his head hurts, and his chest still feels empty, it somehow seems just a little lighter, too.


	8. Chapter 8

Jin sees Yuna lower her bow when he steps into the clearing, Kage trotting behind him.

It's only dawn, but judging by the half-full pot above a few embers she sits beside, she has also been awake for a while.

"You're back." She states, sounding relieved. Jin feels a pang of guilt, aside from the shame that's already resting on his shoulders because of what he had done mere hours ago. 

Looking back, he doesn't feel like it was him that acted that way, but an entirely different person. Has he grown so weak that he's become unrecognizable to himself? 

He doesn't remember thoughts like that crossing his mind after his father had died, though the guilt was almost as unbearable as it is now. Still, there are a few key differences between Kasumasa and Shmura's deaths, such as actively participating in his uncle's killing, compared to passively watching his father get murdered in front of his very eyes. 

He doesn't know which one is worse.

"Sorry for leaving like that." Jin says, tying Kage's reins to a tree before he sits down beside her. He does his best to stop thinking about what has happened, and focus on what's right in front of him. 

Yuna shakes her head. "You're allowed to leave as you please, Jin. You don't owe me anything."

He's silent for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"Didn't I worry you?" He finally asks, to which she just shrugs.

"I saw no signs of struggle in your tracks. I figured you just wanted to take a walk to clear your head." Her back cracks when she stretches, then moves from sitting back on her knees to crossing her legs. "I would've come looking for you if you wouldn't have returned by noon, though."

Jin huffs, releasing the tension he didn't even realize was in his shoulders. He doesn't know why he thought Yuna would be mad.

"The tea's still lukewarm, if you want some. Or you can start the fire again, flint's over there."

"Lukewarm is fine." Jin says as he rises to his feet, takes the bowl from Yuna, and starts filling it with tea. "Have you been awake for long?" 

Yuna's gaze rests on him as he returns by her side, them drifts up to the sky. "I woke up when the moon was almost behind the trees."

 _So about the time he had reached the field,_ he thinks. Jin brings the bowl to his lips and starts drinking. 

They both sit in silence, though Jin occasionally glances at Yuna, who has closed her eyes and laid back on her elbows.

"A storm is coming up." She says out of nowhere, and Jin nods. He can smell it; the air is humid, but also cuttingly clean. "The sunrise is red," she adds.

"Is that how you can tell?"

" _Isn't_ that how you can tell?" She asks with a raised brow.

"No, I can tell by the smell of the air."

"If you say so." She breathes in so deeply that her chest rises an unnatural amount, then exhales. Her expression shows no signs of an epiphany.

"I don't know how to describe the scent to you," Jin says. "It's just not the same one as usual."

They both fall silent again, but this time, it's different, somehow tense. He can feel Yuna's gaze on him.

"Did someone attack you?" She asks, tone careful. "While you were gone."

Jin shakes his head no, then asks why.

"You have blood on your face. And your hands."

Jin freezes, looks down at the cuts across his palms and where his fingers bend, from the way he had gripped the blade. He regrets it now more than ever, that he got so caught up in his own feelings. The lack of reason and rationality from those moments terrifies him the most, if he's being honest. 

But telling her the truth is out of the question. He doesn't want to be coddled, and quite frankly, Yuna's done enough already. It's not her fault that he's lost control of his feelings.

"It was an accident." He lies. "A boar attacked me."

Her expression is unreadable, but she stands up, ambling into the broken house, and returning with bandages in one hand and a damp rag in the other.

Jin takes them from her, uttering a silent 'thank you' as he does. Yuna kneels back down beside the campfire, but further away from him than before. He says nothing, only cleans the cuts from crusted blood and involuntarily tenses once again. Something feels out of place, terribly so.

He's upset Yuna because he left. That has to be it. And him, being the fool he is, didn't bother to double-check her words and the way she acted. 

They both speak up at the same time.

"If I upset y—"

"I'm sorry if I—"

Jin clears his throat while Yuna avoids his gaze. "You first." He says.

"It was...not that important. I just—..." Yuna breathes in, looking up at the dark red sky. "Sorry. If I made you feel like you had to sneak away to get some alone time. It never was my intention."

_That's _how she interprets it?__

__Jin blinks twice, then looks back at her, gazes connecting. He hopes Yuna can tell that he's being nothing but honest when he speaks._ _

__"You never did that. I couldn't sleep and didn't want to wake you." He says, but realizes that she doesn't seem to believe his words enough when she starts to stare back down at the ground. "Yuna." She looks at him carefully when he calls out her name. Jin makes sure to speak as sincerely as he can. "I appreciate everything you've done for me. I would be an idiot if I tried to run away from my trustiest friend and ally on this whole island."_ _

__If only she knew she had been one of the strongest reasons for him to drop the katana when he was holding it against his stomach._ _

__There's a smile on her face now, a relieved one. As he focuses back on the cuts on his palms, he finds Yuna shifting to sit only half an arm length away from him. She nods at the rag he's using to clean the wounds. "Do you need any help?"_ _

__Jin shakes his head no. He's given her a hard enough time already by running off and acting the way he did. "Just tell me where the blood on my face is."_ _

__Yuna points to her own visage, towards her left brow and cheekbone._ _

__Jin does his best to follow her directions, but ultimately gives up when Yuna tells him that he's missed a spot. He just runs the rag over his whole face while squeezing his eyes shut._ _

__After that, he focuses back on his hands, on tying the bandage into place. If only he hadn't gripped the blade that hard, he wouldn't have worried her. Or if he hadn't even thought about... _that_ , he wouldn't have had to lie to her. _As if an accident with a boar even sounds believable.__ _

__"Jin?"_ _

__He looks up when he feels two fingers slide under his chin, gently tipping his head upwards._ _

__Yuna carefully wipes at a spot between his brow and eyelid, so close that he can feel her breath on the bridge of his nose._ _

__"You missed that one." With an air of finality, she then moves to stand up, walking towards where they had propped up the peeled branch to dry against another tree. "Do you want to go fishing after the storm?"_ _

__The final knot on his bandage is done. He nods. "Yes. I'd like that."_ _

__"I'll work on finishing the fishing rod and adding the hook to it."_ _

__"Where did you even get it?" Jin asks. "The hook."_ _

__"A fisherman was at Ichi's inn the day I had gone to ask for supplies. He said he couldn't offer neither money, nor food, but he overheard my conversation with her, and decided to give me one of his spare fishing hooks." When she catches sight of his surprised face, she laughs. "Don't act like the people don't know what the Ghost has done for them."_ _

__"Still," Jin argues. "I can't believe that so many of them want to help, even though the Shogun is hunting me."_ _

__That seems to put her in deep thought. She pauses for a second, humming before she speaks. "We need to be careful." With a sigh, Yuna unsheathes her knife and starts working on smoothing down some of the sharper edges Jin had missed on the branch. "Helping hands are always good, but you never know who's holding a knife behind their back while wearing a smile."_ _

__She's right. They will need to keep their eyes peeled and senses sharp whenever they go to a village or just any place with people, now. It's not something Jin is used to, but then again, he's proven to be adaptable._ _

__"You should probably try to catch some sleep while I finish up the rod." Yuna says._ _

__Jin shakes his head no. "I'd rather sit with you. At least until it starts to rain."_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again this is mostly filler and I'm sorry!! There will be more interesting chapters on the way! Thank you for reading ♥️


	9. Chapter 9

Big drops have already started their rhythmic pitter-patter against the leaves of the trees around him. Jin can feel the rain start to soak his kimono, at first only a few dots on his shoulders.

He sheathes his katana, glancing towards where Yuna was sitting a few minutes ago, working on finishing the fishing rod. She's gone, probably carrying supplies back into the house to protect them from the rain.

While he can't help but want to make himself useful, he has to give himself a moment to catch his breath. The whole morning, he had worked on tweaking his fighting stances. Every muscle feels drained, more than they usually would from practicing, but in a way that's satisfying.

His form left nothing to be desired; there were just some temporary limitations his injuries provided, which he had to learn to work with. The process was, in itself, nothing new (he had obviously gotten hurt many times before), only the affected spots were different. In spite of what he's been taught by both others and his own experiences, Jin can't afford waiting for full recovery in his current situation.

There is still so much left to do, and he's made enemies he never thought he'd have to face. Being ready to strike back at any given moment is of immense value. Jin doesn't know how much time they have left until the Shogun's men find their hiding spot, and he doesn't want to find out. While he had been swinging his sword and clearing his mind of as many thoughts as possible (he never managed to, now even less so), one that stuck to his brain was the fact that they should pack up what little they have and move. Especially now that he _can_ move.

"The last thing your healing wounds need is rainwater." Yuna speaks up, keeping her face shielded with her hands as she runs up to him. Her hair is damp already, and there are droplets of water in her lashes.

"I don't mind the rain." Jin shrugs with his healthy shoulder. When she nods for him to follow, he does. He only stops in his tracks when he has crossed the clearing and reached the spot where Yuna had made tea for them that morning. He reaches for the empty pot, picking it up in spite of Yuna's protests, and propping it against his side before he makes his way towards the onsen.

He can feel the earth start to soften beneath the soles of his sandals, he likes it. Liked it even as a little boy.

Yuna glances at him, puzzled at his change of direction, but she understands in a few seconds time, and proceeds to the shack without him.

About a minute later, Jin is stepping through the entrance with the pot now filled with water propped against his hip.

When he sets it down on the ground, he he can't help but let a sharp intake of breath slip.

"You could have asked for help," Yuna says.

"I need to regain my strength," Jin states plainly, padding around the shack, looking for a rag.

"By making your wounds bleed again?" She asks, tossing him a piece of fabric that's lightly stained with reddish brown, presumably from his own blood a few days ago.

"You didn't mind me running straight into castle Kaneda right after you dragged me off the beach. And my injuries were worse then than they are now."

Yuna frowns, then turns around and looks out the window when he starts to undo his kimono.

"That was different." She says, voice now slightly muffled by the rain and the fact that she's facing away. "You were out for a few days, and didn't move at all. Not like this time, where it only took you a few hours to wake up."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"For people like you, who work themselves to the bone, maybe it is."

He's got no other retorts up his sleeve, and decides that simply remaining silent is the wisest thing to do.

Carefully, he unrolls the bandage around his shoulder, dips the rag into the water, then starts wiping the sweat from his torso. The water stings the fresh wounds on his palms, but the one on his shoulder is getting much better already.

"Wouldn't have just using the onsen been easier?" She asks, and Jin shakes his head no.

"I couldn't have left my clothes anywhere without having them get them dirty and soaked."

Yuna nods, propping her elbows against one of the windows as she stares outside. "We should head to Jogaku next. Get you more of your clothes from there. And the Ghost armor."

"I should have brought them myself. I just...wasn't sure. About what to expect."

"From your uncle?"

Jin hums affirmatively. "From everything. I was..." He sighs, pauses. "I was still hoping that he would understand, after I killed the Khan."

He can see Yuna blink thoughtfully when she turns to look at him from the corner of her eye. "Not so many people can appreciate resourcefulness."

"It wasn't about that. I don't think it was, at least."

He can practically feel the curiosity out of Yuna's silence, but he appreciates that she doesn't ask any further.

All is quiet, except for the rain outside, and the splashing of water as he continues cleaning himself. Yuna stays silent for long enough to have Jin sure that she's mentally someplace far away, someplace he doesn't dare ask about.

If he's being honest, it shocked him how open Yuna had been about her childhood when they'd hunted down the black wolf and the brothers. Part of him felt a strange kind of warmth at the realization that her trust for him ran so deeply, but another part of him was scared.

Not because having someone's trust (especially Yuna's) is a burden, but because it is a great responsibility. He remembers treading lightly, and treating every moment she bared her soul to him with as much reverence as he could possibly muster. If anything, he thought those instances to be bordering on sacredness, in spite of the wretched tales they told.

"Taka loved the rain when he was little." Yuna speaks up, chin propped on her hand, her elbow against the window frame. "And the mud especially. He was maybe three or four, and would sneak out of the house during the rain just to stomp into the puddles. When he returned, he would look like some kind of little pig or mud monster, covered in it all over."

Jin huffs in amusement when Yuna laughs softly.

"He was so small, then, the top of his head barely reached my hips when he stood beside me."

"How old were you when he was born?" Jin asks, part of his mind focused on wrapping a fresh bandage around the wound on his shoulder. They were running out of bandages, too. Another reason to leave.

"Eight or nine, maybe?" He can see Yuna frown, deep in thought once more, before she gives up. "I'm not sure." She glances at him fugitively, to make sure he wouldn't mind her turning back around to face him before she does. "How are your wounds healing?"

"Well enough." He says, attempting to tie the bandage into a knot with only one hand. "The honey was...very effective."

He can hear the wooden floor creak as Yuna approaches him. "Let me."

Her hands brush over his own as he moves it away, and, for some reason, Jin feels the need to avert his gaze from her face.

He searches his mind for something to say, and finds it the second she ties off the knot.

"I was thinking this morning..." he begins, following Yuna with his glance as she sits down beside him, about an arm's length away. "That we should leave soon."

"Where to?"

"Jogaku sounds like a start. But I think the Shogun's men could be expecting us to go there, so if we do..."

"Then we best not stay long." Yuna completes his sentence, and Jin nods as he wraps the sides of his kimono around his torso.

"Is the rod ready?" He asks, and Yuna gives an affirmative hum. "We should go fishing tomorrow morning. Make sure we eat some proper meat before we set off."

She nods. "Sounds good enough to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this was probably filler, but I want to set the pace of this book right, and focus on Jin's thoughts, as well as his interactions with Yuna, more than anhything else. I apologize if I'm boring you, and I thank you for your patience.


	10. Chapter 10

The sky has been wrung out of what rain it had to offer, but the clouds persist even at the crack of dawn after the stormy night. The air is humid and smells of petrichor; both the mud and grass squelch below his sandals at every step. Jin has a persisting headache, which most likely stems from the unsavory weather as well.

In spite of that, he'd still much rather have clouds above him than a scorching July sun.

"Something wrong?" Yuna asks as she swings herself onto Hotaru's saddle.

"No," he says, "I'm just trying to remember if we forgot anything."

Her horse stars moving, and trots up to him. "Not like there was much to take."

Jin strokes Kage's mane thoughtfully, then readjusts the bag he and Yuna had improvised a few hours ago. It's made out of a bigger piece of fabric and some well-placed knots, but it does its job just fine. In spite of her protests, he insisted to carry it himself, though there was little weight to speak of. All that they have taken is the small wooden bowl, what remains of the bandages and honey, their two rolled up mats, and the sack of rice, which now contains a volume of rice about as big as two of Jin's fists placed beside each-other.

The pot is too big and heavy to carry, his katana is strapped to his waist, he is already wearing his only change of clothing — that has to be all.

No, he suddenly remembers, his tanto still was—

"You almost forgot this under the floorboard."

Fingers wrapped around the sheath and grip pointed towards him, Yuna holds out the Sakai blade.

"Ah." Jin mentally scolds himself for being this negligent with one of his most prized possessions. Since when has he gotten this sloppy? "Thank you."

Yet, as he grips the tanto and straps it to his waist along with his katana, a feeling of dread worms itself into the pit of his stomach. He remembers. Remembers the way it felt to slide that blade out of his uncle's torso, the warm blood against his hands, the last stuttering breath Lord Shimura exhaled before he sagged against him.

It's so vivid that he feels like it's happening in that very moment.

His hands feel dirty, and his gut feels like it's rising into his throat.

"...and I was thinking that, after we go fishing for breakfast, we should try to make it to Kin by nightfall. Or at least close to Kamiagata." Yuna's already a few meters away, making her way through the forest before she tugs on Hotaru's reins, stopping in her tracks. "Jin?"

"Sorry." He speaks up, then squeezes his calves around Kage. With a huff, the horse begins walking forward, and he catches up to her within seconds. "Let's go."

Shivers run down his spine for no apparent reason as he guides his horse through the trees, following Yuna. After a minute or two, his heart stops thumping against his sternum (something Jin hadn't even noticed until it had calmed down), and his breaths become rhythmic again.

Part of him is angry at himself, for getting so worked up over something so minor, so familiar. His own tanto, really? What's next? His bow? His katana?

Only the trotting of hooves against mud and rustling of leaves can be heard until they make it out of the forest.

"Where did you say we could go fishing?" Jin asks in an attempt to make up for the fact that he had been too caught up to pay attention to her words.

"The hissing creak crossing is a good spot," Yuna says. "And it's north from here, so it's on our way to Jogaku too."

"Good thinking."

It's strange to be out in the open again. As much as he is confident in the Sakai steel and his own two hands, he still feels unusually vulnerable now.

Should he cover his face? Will people recognize him, and hunt him down? Turn him in? Notify the samurai?

Will he ever be able to show his face in a village again? Even if a lot of people put their faith in him and respect him, how will he be able to tell them apart from the ones that don't? Is there a bounty on his head? If so, how big? How convincing? How tempting?

In spite of his hyperactive brain, Jin does his best to stay alert. While the open field does make him feel vulnerable, it also contradictorily provides a sense of safety. If there were some harm coming their way, they'd be the first to see it.

"There'll be a small village up ahead." Yuna says, turning to look at him over her shoulder. She gives Hotaru's reins a soft tug towards the riverbank on their right.

"Best not get too close." Jin follows her direction. "Will that spot work?"

Yuna nods her head. "You can start setting up a fire here while I try to catch something."

—

Fishing seems to be a quick affair, unlike what Jin has heard. Yuna returns with two fish just when the flames of the fire begin to settle, which makes for optimal heat.

They finish eating about the time the sky starts to turn blue after the dark grey sunrise.

They spend their journey in silence, mostly, with occasional bursts of conversation; usually observations either he or Yuna make regarding the weather, tracks they see on the road, or animals.

The Kushi Grasslands, which would have usually been a delight to look at now only serve as a reminder. A reminder of the lack of control over his emotions, and of his weakness. Jim doesn't dare look down at his own two hands, but he becomes hyper aware of the cuts on his palms.

Above all, he's feeling guilty. Guilty that he even considered it.

What would Yuna's face have looked like, if she would have found him on the ground, white pampas grass soaked with bloody red around him, katana driven through his guts?

"I don't think I could ever get enough of looking at a pampas grass field." Yuna speaks up beside him, both their horses moving at a leisurely trot.

"It's peaceful." Jin agrees. There's nothing more he can think of to describe his surroundings without lying, and he doesn't want to lie to her. Not when she's smiling like that. And especially not when she spurs on Hotaru, pollen whirling up around her as her horse starts to gallop, and she leans in the saddle to dip her hand amongst the sea of white.

That is peaceful, in its' own, comforting way. He would never forgive himself if he ruined that view.

Blinking, Jin realizes one corner of his mouth has perked up as he was watching her. Deciding that it would be wise not to keep Yuna waiting, he whips Kage's reins, following her trail.

—

By the time they pass fort Koyasan, the sun has already passed its highest point.

At first, neither of them dare speaking about the obvious. About what had happened at fort Koyasan, only mere weeks ago.

Jin doesn't want to be the one to bring Taka's death up, though he can tell Yuna is starting to get lost in her thoughts.

She's been there for him, countless times. If there is a moment when he can repay her, and be there for her in return, that moment is now.

"I know a place where we can spend the night. It's in Kin."

Yuna's glance, only seconds ago staring off into the distance, now moves to rest on him. "Do you have a friend there?"

"More of an acquaintance." Jin clarifies. "I helped him a while ago."

"You think he's trustworthy enough?" She pauses for a second, then asks a more vital question. "And willing to help _two_ fugitives?"

"That won't matter. He's dead."

"Oh."


	11. Chapter 11

Kin is colder than he remembers it to be. A thick blanket of snow covers their surroundings where ash doesn't. The moon is on the horizon, and Yuna rides beside him, shoulders raised and chin lowered in an attempt to preserve her body heat.

Jin's own breath fogs his vision while he speaks.

"We just need to cross that bridge over there and that'll be it."

"Good. The horses need a rest." Yuna rubs her palms together before blowing warm air on them. "And they're not the only ones."

Jin huffs, then agrees. His back feels sore, as do his legs. Laying down on a tatami mat, no matter how cold his surroundings are, sounds like heaven.

"Jin, wait—"

He looks at Yuna, then follows her glance. There are figures standing in the pampas grass across the river, and also near the small barn and house.

Of course someone had gotten there before they did.

"Mongols." He concludes based on their armor. "Let's walk."

He doesn't finish his sentence before Yuna already dismounts from Hotaru and reaches for her bow.

He follows, unsheathing his katana. Fighting again had been unavoidable, but still, he would much rather not have to do it now.

As if she had sensed his thoughts, Yuna turns to look at him over her shoulder, her hand barely grazing the arrows in the quiver on her back.

"Do you feel strong enough to fight?" She asks. "We can try to look for shelter somewhere else if not. Your call."

He shakes his head no.

"Let's take out as many of them as we can silently." Jin crouches, though his muscles protest against every move. "Follow me."

Together, they sneak under the cover of the pampas grass. When they encounter the first two enemies, only a fugitive glance is enough for the two of them to come to an agreement. Jin sneaks towards the enemy on his left, Yuna towards the other, and almost in perfect synchronization, they dart out of the grass just enough to knock the mongols over, then sit their throats.

The process repeats itself with the remaining enemies that are in killing range. Even just an extra pair of hands speeds up the process immensely, Jin notes. And it's refreshing to have someone that adapts to his approach by his side, much unlike Masako, Ishikawa, or any other samurai, really.

They meet again beside the river, and Jin can't help but notice how different Yuna looks when she kills: face devoid of emotion, brows furrowed with concentration, blood on her face and clothes. If anything, the mongols should fear her, not the Ghost.

"I'll sneak around the house," she whispers, nodding at the building across the river. "And climb onto the roof."

"Good. I'll climb the barn."

"And tear open the healing wound on your shoulder?"

"I won't." Jin argues, slight frown on his face. He's been useless for long enough; it needs to end now. Letting Yuna take care of the remaining mongols all by herself is out of the question. "Come on."

If they didn't need the shelter, he would have simply tossed a smoke bomb into the house, then finished off the remaining mongols. Unfortunately, they have to work as non-invasively as possible.

They cross the bridge together, then split up. Jin finds a hole to squeeze through the shabby wooden fence, which just so happens to be behind the barn.

What unfortunately isn't behind the barn is a box, or just anything to climb onto first before making it to the roof.

With an annoyed exhale, Jin leaps upwards, grabbing the edge of the roof with both hands, and finds that Yuna had been right. His shoulder starts to hurt like he's been shot with an arrow again.

Suppressing a grunt of pain, he pulls himself onto the roof, not nearly as graceful as he would've been without that damned shoulder of his.

"Ter yuu baisan be?" _(What was that?)_

"Bi ochij üziye." _(I'll go check.)_

 _Shit_.

While his ears are ringing from the pain, he can still clearly hear the unfamiliar voices. And the steps that get louder and louder.

Jin steadies himself, unsheathes his katana. If he jumps down on top of the mongol, he should be able to take him down easily. He just needs to focus.

The next thing he hears is the ring of a thrown wind chime. The steps are getting quieter now, heading in the opposite direction. He glances over the top of the barn's roof, towards the small house. Yuna crouches on top of it, bow drawn.

The second the mongol enters her line of sight, her arrow whistles through the air, straight into the man's forehead.

Clean and precise.

Sensei Ishikawa should have taken her in, not Tomoe. But then again, maybe he would have had to fight her if that had been the case. Or Ishikawa would have driven Yuna insane before they could have met.

Hit thoughts are interrupted when her gaze connects with his, sharp, practically screaming ' _I told you so_ '.

The time for wordless bickering is cut short when another voice speaks up, and a man exits the barn.

"Bilguun? Ta tend baina uu?" _(Bilguun? Are you there?)_

The mongol draws in a breath of shock when he sees his fellow soldier laying on the ground. But that's the last thing he does.

Jin hops off the roof of the barn, katana facing down as he drives it through the man's chest, then retrieves it easily.

He looks up at Yuna, still atop the house. She gives him a quick nod, points at the house below her, then lifts her left hand, fingers spread out.

Five mongols left.

He gestures for her to stay put, then sneaks towards the house, picking up the wind chime that Yuna had thrown on his way. When he reaches the house, he rests his back against the wall beside the entrance.

Jin tosses the win chime again, but the mongols don't move. Instead, they start calling out what seem to be names, presumably of the people they'd just killed.

When they reveive no answer, they all start to exit the house one after the other. There goes his plan.

One pair of steps seems to be getting closer and closer to his hiding spot. With a silent intake of breath, he steadies himself, gripping the katana more tightly.

His glance connects with that of the mongol's. He reads nothing but fear in it; it gives him a much needed rush of power.

"Novsh! Samurai baina—" _(Shit! There's a samurai—)_

He doesn't get to finish his sentence before an arrow pierces his neck. The mongol falls to his knees, gurgling his own blood.

"Deever deer khen negen baina!" One of the remaining soldiers shouts. _(There's someone on the roof!)_

They must have seen Yuna.

He darts out from behind the house, just quickly enough to see her leap off the roof and onto one of the men, knocking him over.

He attacks the mongol that's closest to him, who has a spear. His first attempt gets deflected easily.

But soon enough, his instinct kicks in, as well as the thrill of the fight. In the face of danger, it feels like he was born just to wield the katana, and nothing else. He only takes one hit, which barely grazes his arm. Before he knows it, Jin has sliced through the juncture of his enemy's shoulder and left him to bleed out in the mud.

The next attack comes from behind, which he dodges just about. This time it's a mongol with dual swords, one of the easiest to defeat.

He never understood why they even used _two_ swords to begin with — the human mind was not made to be able to focus on two weapons at once. If anything, the looks of him are more frightening than the way he fights. Jin makes quick work of him, and when he turns, he sees Yuna fallen, her back against the mud.

With her teeth clenched, she pushes herself away from the mongol in front of her. With a menacing grin, he approaches, spear aimed at her.

Yuna's bow is maybe an arm's length away from her, it's a gamble to speculate whether she'll reach it in time or not.

Jin acts without even thinking. He closes the distance between them and himself within seconds, thrusts the katana through the mongol's insides. But the man doesn't let out a scream of anguish, he doesn't show even a sign of pain.

Only when he sags against him does Jin notice the arrow stuck in his head.

Yuna had reached her bow in time.

"That was the last one," She says, lowering her bow, obviously out of breath. "Thank you."

With a disgusted scrunch of his nose, Jin pulls his katana out of the dead body, sheathes it. He'd been too late.

He puts his hand in Yuna's reach and she takes it. With ease, he pulls her up to her feet.

She's so close to him that part of Jin would like to hug her. As...strange as that sounds. Even if he'd been pretty much useless when it came to aiding her, he's just glad he doesn't have to burn her dead body. Or that she doesn't have to burn his.

"Are you hurt?" He asks instead, letting his gaze roam over her. There is blood on her clothes, and mud aplenty, but no signs of injuries.

She shakes her head no, and Jin subconsciously exhales with relief. "Are you?"

"No." He states plainly. "Let's drag away the bodies, and set up a small camp."

She smiles. "You read my mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, I'm finally focusing more the plot I have in mind! As for the mongolian translations, I would have a question for all of you: did you feel that they took away from your immersion, and would rather I include them at the end of the chapter, or did you not mind/were you interested to know their meaning while you were reading? Thank you!


	12. Chapter 12

"We got very lucky," Yuna says with an air of finality when Jin drops the frozen carcass beside the campfire.

And it's true. The payoff for killing that small group of mongols has been high so far: they found a half-eaten boar buried in the snow behind the house, and a pot of clean water.

"We did. Do you still have some Genmaicha tea blend?" He asks while he crouches beside the dead boar and unsheathes his tanto.

Just one look at it is enough to render him useless and make an unpleasant feeling arise in his gut.

He remembers the leaves, the blood, the lack of hesitation when he thrusted the blade forward. And he remembers the tears in his uncle's eyes, right as they exchanged their final words.

Jin clings to ration like it's the only thing that matters, tells himself that it's just his weapon. His own weapon, and nothing more.

But it is so much more. It's a reminder of the weight that rests upon his shoulders, and of his punishment; it's a reminder of his uncle.

Of what he had to do.

His stomach feels heavy with dread, and his lungs seem to tighten when he draws in a breath.

He promised his uncle that he would be remembered. How can he do that if he looms in the shadows and kills from behind? It's not his place to tell the people and the men above him who is honorable and who isn't. Not anymore. Honor a system he abandoned the moment he put poison in the mongols' milk.

And yet, he never felt as dishonorable then as he feels now.

Was even his final promise to Shimura a lie?

"I only have some left. It should be enough for the two of us tonight, but...let's hope we make it to Jogaku by tomorrow."

At the sound of her voice, he snaps out of his thoughts, blinking as he regains his composure.

"Want me to help you cut it up?" She nods at the boar, he shakes his head no. His expression must have changed, Yuna looks at him with a raised brow. "What's wrong, is the meat rotten?"

"No." He pauses. "Sorry, I was just..." Jin sighs, decides it be best if he kept silent instead, and gets to work. The meat is half frozen, much more rigid than normal, but the fine Sakai blade makes quick work of it regardless.

"Thinking?" Yuna completes his sentence, and he looks up at her with an expression of half-surprise.

"Yes." He answers quietly, and she gives him a sympathetic smile. Yuna takes the meat he has cut up into pieces and impales them with sticks she has sharpened with her knife.

Against his warm hands, the frozen blood of the carcass melts.

He wonders if Yuna knows about his uncle's death. She must have figured at least something out, that's certain, but it dawns on him that he hadn't had the courage to tell her anything.

Maybe she heard back when she'd gone to Ichi's inn? How quickly do news spread among commoners?

Even if she hadn't heard then, it's inevitable that she will. When they reach Jogaku, the others will most likely already have heard — maybe not the fact that _he_ killed his uncle, but that his uncle is dead. The rest won't be that difficult to piece together.

Still, her finding out like that feels undoubtedly wrong. She has done so much for him, even before the Khan had died.

She has confided in him, with her past, time after time, and Jin knows that if he chooses to say something, it will be treated with just as much reverence as he treated her.

If not more.

"I was thinking about..." Jin inhales, pauses. Yuna's focus shifts onto him, curiosity on her expression. "My uncle," he finally manages to say. The words almost get caught in his throat, but he decides he _wants_ her to know. He no longer follows honor, but he wants to follow honesty. "He's dead now."

"I know," she tells him, voice soft, but neutral. "I heard people at Ichi's inn talking about it."

They both pause, and Jin weighs out his words carefully. What he should and what he shouldn't tell her becomes ambiguous, part of him regrets he even initiated the conversation, and the other wants to tell her about everything that's on his mind.

Balance is not easily found, but he tries to feel it out as best as he can.

"You don't need to tell me what happened." Yuna speaks up, somehow hesitant. "Whatever it was, I know it wasn't your fault."

That hits him in ways that weren't intended.

Because it _is_ his fault. It was his tanto that ended Shimura's life, it were his own hand around its grip, it was him.

And it was him that made an empty promise.

"I killed him," Jin tells her. His voice falters at the very end of his sentence, and he doesn't dare look at her. He stares up at the sky, sighs. "I killed Lord Shimura, I had to."

Poignant silence follows, and he can't, for the life of him, dare to look at her.

"Jin." Her hand is on his shoulder, the healthy one. She gives it a soft squeeze, her eyes are on him, gentle. "I know you'd never hurt someone unless you had to. And I know you always try to do right by everyone. But you can't save them all."

"I know," he says. "But I wish I could have."

"Some can't be saved—" Yuna pauses, he can clearly tell she's thinking about Taka. His heart aches. "And some don't _want_ to be saved."

She states the obvious, but it still feels like a revelation. His uncle never wanted to be saved, he never wanted to try to see why Jin was doing what he was doing.

Shimura was willing to die for honor, and he had done just that.

But does that excuse Jin's final words?

He falls silent, puts his hand on his shoulder, atop hers. "Thank you."

Yuna smiles softly, but in a way that's awfully bittersweet.

"The water's boiling. I'll make us some tea."

When she takes away her hand, Jin feels as if something is missing, as if he would have wanted more. But he shrugs it off just as quickly.

While Yuna sprinkles the tea blend into the water, he takes care of roasting the meat.

—

In spite of the warm tea and food, the Kamiagata cold has rooted itself deep into his bones. He had helped Yuna take the mongols' belongings out of the house, and place their tatami mats inside.

Yuna moves the mats closer together as he's kicking off his sandals. Jin raises a brow, but says nothing. It's almost midnight, and he lacks the energy to really think about anything anymore.

And yet, as he lays down, tired to the core, sleep doesn't find him. Unlike Yuna. She falls asleep faster than he does, back facing him as her breaths become shallow and slow.

She's resting much closer to him now than they had been back in that old house near the Mamushi farmstead. But he wouldn't dream about complaining. It anything he likes it, and can also understand the practical aspect.

If only his thoughts could shut up, this would be close to heaven.

He feels Yuna twitch in her sleep, and notes that, over the minutes, he must have inched closer and closer to her, as his back now rests against hers almost fully. With a sharp intake of breath, she awakes.

Part of him expects her to shift away from him now that she's conscious, but he's wrong. She seeks his warmth, leans against him more bodily.

"Jin?" She whispers, and he gives a hum. "Did I wake you?"

"No." He says, voice low and hushed. "I hadn't fallen asleep."

Yuna sighs, he feels her shoulders move as she inhales and exhales deeply. All is silent for a while, except for an owl nearby, and the wind.

"How did you know about this place?" She asks, seemingly out of nowhere.

Jin only huffs. "Are you sure you want me to tell you that?"

"I dreamt that the hanged man in that tree right outside the house had come back to life. So yes."

Jin frowns, confused. "The dead man in the tree is more scary to you than the mongols? Or the shogun's men?"

Yuna huffs. "Don't tell me then."

In spite of her choice of words, Jin can tell she wants to know. And who is he to deny her? Especially since he can't sleep?

With a sigh, he gives in.

"It was a few weeks ago, I was just riding through here. I saw a man, kneeling in front of that tree. He told me that the young man who had been hung was his son, and that mongols did it. They caught him and his two sons, and made him pick which out of them had to die."

"And?" Yuna asks. "Where's the father now?"

"He asked me to go after his other son, who had ran away after the incident. When I found him, he explained that his father actually had picked him to be hung, and that the mongols killed his brother. He asked me to tell his father he was dead. But when I returned, the father was gone too. He had jumped into the river from a high spot, and killed himself."

He hears Yuna inhale a breath of surprise. "Gods."

"Will you be able to fall asleep now?"

"Maybe," she says. "If you tell me another story. One that doesn't involve so much death."

"I'd fall asleep trying to think of one."

He heads her chuckle. "Then do that."


	13. Chapter 13

The sky is clear once the sun starts to rise, and the air is fresh, almost cuttingly so. A dream of his uncle still haunts the back of his mind when he awakes, but Jin doesn't remember the details of it. And frankly, he doesn't even want to remember.

His hands and feet seem cold enough to be frozen, but his left shoulder is warm. When he opens his eyes, laying on his back, he sees that Yuna has rested her forehead against his upper arm, where the deltoid meets the biceps. Her hand rests on top of his shoulder, over the wound. There's stains of blood, probably from the way his injury had opened a little back when he'd jumped onto the roof of the house. But the weight of her hand is light, he feels no pain from it.

He could get used to sleeping next to someone, again. Those instances had been nonexistent since the mongol invasion, and if he's being honest, he can't remember the last time he woke up with the weight of someone else against his side. Even before all of this.

It's a very welcome change.

She usually wakes before him, Jin figures the hours of riding through the snow must have worn her down her much more than him. 

At first, he wants to call out her name. He decides against it just as he opens his mouth.

Wouldn't it be unfair to disturb her, when they had such little peace to begin with?

She looks so perfect like this. Expression soft, hair mussed, lips slightly parted, slightly chapped, slightly rosy. She's so close that he could kiss her, if he wanted to. 

Jin takes in a breath of surprise at his own thoughts.

_Kiss her?_

It's not a new thought, he's had it before, once or twice. Back when she'd found him on the beach after the battle with the Khan, and also the night before the Yarikawa siege.

But it takes him by surprise, even now.

Why is he behaving like a child about it? He's had women before — not as much as, per se, Ryuzo (though he's not where Ryuzo's ego ends and where his truth starts), but there have been a fair amount of people that had no complaint about spending the night with a samurai. And the Jito's nephew.

But Yuna's different, he tells himself. She's a friend, one of the only people he has left. He can't let his own mind taint her image which such thoughts.

She's too valuable for that.

"Gods, you just woke up and you're already frowning?"

Brows raised with surprise, Jin glances down at Yuna, who removed her hand and slowly rises to lean back on her elbows.

He can feel her tense by his side, muscles taut as she stretches like a sleepy cat. It's endearing to witness.

"Good morning to you too, Yuna."

"The sun's already rising. You should have woken me up sooner." She moves to sit, legs crossed. Jin follows her lead, rising, then kneeling beside his tatami mat. With a yawn, he's starting to roll it up. 

"You look like you could have use some more sleep," He argues, and she rolls her eyes, sparing him a glance over her shoulder as she cards her fingers to her untied hair.

"And you don't?" She's looking outside the window while her hands are working at her hair and tying it into its usual style. 

Jin huffs. "I'll sleep when the mongols are dead."

"Once they are taken care of," She pauses as she ties her hair into a ponytail. "I'm sure you'll find something else to worry about."

Jin smiles lethargically. He probably will.

—

It's dark in the Endless Forest, and it smells of burnt wood. The sky is fogged up with smoke, and what once were impressive trees are now leafless logs. They remind him of the hanging body back at the house — lifeless but still upright.

Jin also remembers burying his first horse somewhere nearby after he had escaped from being executed. And he remembers his own poison being used on him for the first time in this forest too.

"You hear that?" Yuna asks, tugging on Hotaru's reins to slow her down. 

The sound of metal clashing against metal, and mongolian words. It's not too close, but it's there.

"Sounds like a fight nearby." Jin says and she nods. 

"Should we check?"

"How many arrows do you have left?"

"Six or seven." Yuna hesitates, looks at him with an unreadable expression. "We're a few hours away from Jogaku. Do you really want to risk it?"

 _What if someone needs help?_ , he wants to say, but doesn't even get the chance to do so.

His heart seems to leap out of his chest at the sound of shouted mongolian words, and an arrow that comes flying. Yuna dodges it more through sheer luck than skill.

"Shit!" She cusses, reaching for her bow and dismounting in the same motion.

Jin follows, unsheathing his Katana and catching sight of the mongol that had attacked them. Atop a hill, bow in hand.

With a slow intake of breath, Jin assumes the stance that comes most naturally to him, and holds his katana in front of him as he approaches the man. Maybe his muscles still are healing and not at their full potential, but his reflexes are. 

He's deflected arrows with his sword before.

The mongol can't focus on both him and Yuna, at least not for long. He shoots at Jin maybe once or twice, which gives Yuna just the right amount of time to strike back.

The fact that she's worn from yesterday is very much palpable in her shot. She misses the head, but lands it in the shoulder instead. 

Jin's not about to complain. Thag gives him just enough time to sprint up to the mongol and finish him off himself.

Katana ready, he's about to thrust it through his enemy's chest. Before he can, the mongol lets out a choked sound. The end of another katana shows out of his stomach, and the moment it retracts, he falls to the ground. Even in the brief second that he sees the blade, Jin can tell that it's masterfully crafted, and undoubtedly fine steel. Behind the mongol stands a tall figure, which looks somehow lanky even under the samurai armor.

Japanese, undoubtedly, but his face looks much younger than Jin's.

He doesn't get to see much more, another mongol runs their way, from where the sounds of the battle are coming from. 

He assumes the wind stance, sword held horizontally in front of him. 

The young man beside him rushes past him to attack, but almost loses his footing when his blow gets deflected. Jin sees that as his opportunity to strike, and approaches the spear-wielding mongol head-on. Before his enemy can even start his attack, Jin easily spins his sword with a heavy attack, then follows it up with a kick. 

The young man does the finishing blow, cutting the mongol's head off clean.

Out of breath, the stranger speaks up. "Did the shogun send you here too?"

The stranger must be one of the samurai sent from the mainland to take over the empty estates. Figures.

"I'm just a ronin," Jin lies, though he can tell that it doesn't come off as truthful as he'd like it to. He shakes the blood off his sword in one movement and sheathes it. When he looks up, he can tell that the young samurai's eyes were watching him with utmost care.

"Katsuro!" A voice that's further away bellows. The sounds of the fight can be heard more clearly now. At the foot of the hill are three other men, also wearing samurai armor, fighting against a group of about ten mongols. "Bring that man with you and help! Uncle is injured!"

The young man looks at him with an expression that can hardly be figured out.

"Help us." He says, tone aggressive and fiery. It's not a plea, it's a demand, and even though Jin is not used to being addressed as an inferior, he readies his sword once more. 

The snow crunches behind him, but before he can turn, Yuna's voice rings out. "Mongol patrol behind us. They saw our horses, can't be long until they find us too."

She stops by Jin's side, bow and arrow drawn. She inhales sharply once she catches sight of the other samurai and mongols, which doesn't go unnoticed. She looks at him with an expression that somehow embodies every swearword to ever exist.

"Alright. Me and…my woman will help." Jin tells the stranger with an air of finality. It's their best bet at getting out of the whole situation unscathed. One patrol of mongols is manageable, but two, not so much. Unless they mingle with the other samurai.

The young man's eyes dart back and forth between Jin and Yuna. He looks like a tiger that's seconds away from biting. 

"Katsuro!" One of the other samurai shouts from amidst the fight at the foot of the hill, more urgently now. Jin can hear the mongols approaching from the other side as well. A yelled _Dosho!_ later, an arrow whistles past him. "What are you doing up there?"

"More mongols on the way!" The young man answers the samurai, then glances at Jin. It's clear as day that he trusts him as little as he trusts the invaders. But, just like him and Yuna, he has no choice but to form an alliance. "Come on, then, _ronin_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I want to preface this by saying that I'm IMMENSELY sorry if this was confusing. My action writing skills are dogshit, so feedback is more appreciated than ever. If you got lost at one point, please do tell me which one, because I'll provide explanations to the best of my abilities, and also try to rework this chapter to make it less confusing. But I figured I'd kept you all waiting enough for the next update, so thank you for your patience! I had a super busy week.


	14. Chapter 14

It's been too long since he has fought alongside other samurai. Not that Yuna's adaptability leaves anything to complain about — but the thrill of metal clashing with metal and blood rushing through his ears is something else. The energy that courses through him when he attacks head on is not in any way above the one he feels when striking from the shadows, but a change of pace was needed. It gives him a boost of confidence he had long forgotten came along with it.

As Jin pulls his sword out of a dead mongol, he turns around just in time to lift the katana. A mongolian spear bounces against the fine blade, his enemy stumbles backwards from the impact. 

With a well-placed slash across the man's chest, blood spurting into the air in the direction of his katana, the mongol drops. 

Jin risks a glance to his left, where he had last seen Yuna. He can't spot her at first, especially with the battles of the four samurai going on around him. Not until he glances at the ground, and finds her towering above a mongol. With a sound so angry that it sounds more like a tiger's roar, she stabs her enemy in the neck. 

"Ronin, watch out! Bomb!"

Perking up at the voice of one of the other men, Jin sees a black powder bomb land at his feet. More out of instinct than clear thinking, he rolls away from it. 

The mongol that had thrown it is a short sprint away, so Jin wastes no time. Sword at the ready, he charges at him. The bomb explodes behind him, all that he feels is a wave of dust hit against his back, and the characteristic bitter-salty smell.

He's not a man of words, but he gets his message across perfectly with just a hack of his katana. Don't mess with me.

It's a message written in the way that he holds himself, holds his sword, and the way blood drips off of him. By the time the remaining mongols pick up on it, it's too late.

Only a handful of them have the sensibility to run away, but that doesn't get them far. Yuna and the young, tall samurai — Kazuro? — shoot as many of them down as they can.

Jin flicks his katana, sheathing it. A cut on his upper arm stings, but he has suffered no other harm. Siding with the strangers was a good idea.

"It would have cost us more time, and maybe even more blood to deal with them on our own." One of the men says, approaching Jin. His voice is low, but warm, and he sounds slightly out of breath. He seems to be the oldest, in his late thirties for sure. He gives Jin a thankful nod of his head, and, remembering that he has to treat the man not as a fellow samurai, but as a superior, Jin bows. "We were lucky to have another skilled swordsman pass through here at the same time as us."

"Thank you," Jin begins, then, he hastily adds: "my lords." He walks over to where Yuna is kneeling beside a corpse and retrieving arrows. When she has plucked the last one out of him, he puts his hand in her reach. He pulls her up to her feet easily. 

"You fight very well for a ronin," the same middle-aged samurai remarks. He has kind, soft features, in spite of his weathered skin. His eyes remind Jin of a dog's. "Who do you serve?"

"No one, for now." He says, rummaging his mind for a believable backstory. He finds it so quickly that it shocks even himself. Maybe Yuna has had a bad influence on him. "I used to be a part of the straw hat ronin, under the command of the traitor Ryuzo. When he joined the Khan, me and my wife left." It still feels undoubtedly strange to call Yuna that, but he'd much rather say that than pretend she is his sister. Anything else would sound far from believable. A man and a woman of the same age, which are just friends, and traveling together?

"She is a good archer, especially for a woman." The lanky Samurai, the one he had first encountered, says. 

Just from the way Yuna tenses beside him and her brow twitches, he can tell that his words are bothering her. In spite of it, she still manages a convincing: "Thank you, my lord."

"Where are you headed?" The samurai with the dog-like eyes asks. "I believe it would be wise to travel together if we're going the same way."

The unsavory look that the tall samurai shoots the older one doesn't go unnoticed by Jin. Yuna steps in before he can.

"My sister has a farm, north of here." She clarifies. A much better excuse than saying they're headed to Jogaku.

"Ah," the man says. "A shame. We're going south, to Omi village. We're supposed to occupy an estate there."

Jin's stomach flips at that. _His estate._

"The one that belonged to the Sakai clan," the tall samurai intervenes, tone weirdly...venomous? His eyes rest on Jin with a menacing frown. In spite of the age difference, Jin feels vulnerable before him. What has he figured out? The young samurai hasn't put his bow away like Yuna has, he still holds it before himself, arrow put in place, but not drawn. It's both a warning and a threat. "What can you tell me about the last warrior of clan Sakai, ronin?"

"Katsuro, _please_." The oldest samurai says, placing his hand atop the younger one's shoulder. "You have to stop assuming that every man on this island who wields a sword could be the ghost." Apologetically, he switches to look at Jin and Yuna. "He's been paranoid ever since we got here, yesterday. There was a man that came to greet us and show us to our horses when we had just arrived, and all my son did was warn me about how he could be the ghost."

" _Father_ —" Katsuro growls, but the older samurai is having none of it. Under their breaths, they start to bicker. Jin risks a quick glance at Yuna, which tells him all he needs to know. The second Katsuro's suspicion becomes confirmed, they'll have even more enemies on their hand. Something that should be avoided at all costs.

An uneasy feeling settles in Jin's stomach. He feels like he has pig blood all over his hands and he just stumbled across a hungry wolf. The young samurai came looking for trouble, and if he even knew just how close it was...

"Show us your sword, ronin." The young samurai demands, and his father sighs.

Jin catches onto Katsuro's intentions quickly. The blade has the Sakai clan symbol engraved in it, as does the handle, which he has covered with his arm. He must have caught a glimpse of it during the fight.

"Why?" Jin asks, doing his best to appear confused. "I do not wish to fight you, my lord."

"I don't want to fight you." He says. "I just want to see the sword."

"You fought beside him. You've seen it." Yuna intervenes, then grabs a hold of Jin's sleeve. "My sister wants us to make it to her farm by noon. I'm sorry, my lords, but we should get going."

In the blink of an eye, the young samurai raises his bow, drawn so tight that the string creaks. "Sword. Now."

"That's it." His father stomps towards him, arm outstretched to stop him. "Katsuro, they're just commoners, stop threatening—"

He aims the bow at Yuna, lets go of the arrow.

Just a heartbeat later, Jin draws his sword, and breaks its trajectory. The fine wood splits into two pieces which are sent flying.

Part of him hopes that the men don't know what the symbol of clan Sakai looks like. But he knows there is no such luck — he hears the seal of several katanas being broken at the same time.

A wicked smile worms its way onto Katsuro's face. 

"And you were calling me paranoid, father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know that the sakai clan symbol is NOT actually engraved on the blade, but I saw someone on reddit who had made a custom katana inspired by the one in-game and had added the sakai clan symbol onto the blade and that idea just stuck with me. I hope that doesn't break your immersion, it was just me having a little fun with certain details. Let me know what you thought of the chapter, comments make me endlessly happy! Also, many thanks to @ktbl for showing me some amazing action scene writing resources! (I have no idea how to tag people on ao3, don’t bully me :( )


	15. Chapter 15

Jin knows it's as useless as asking a bear not to maul him, but he hangs onto his last string of hope when he speaks.

"We don't want to fight you." Yuna stands behind him; he can hear her breath stutter. Whether it's from the cold, adrenaline, or fear, remains unknown.

He's never been the best at negotiating, but he knows how to stand his ground. The samurai seem unmoved, but he feels like it's his duty to continue. "The mongols have done enough damage." He adds firmly. "Let us be on our way, and we will do you no harm." Talking to statues might have proven more productive.

All is silent, and Katsuro smiles like a fox. " _You_ doing _us_ harm? If I'd known the Ghost was a lunatic—"

A bowstring creaks behind him, and an arrow whistles beside his ear. It's so close that for a moment Jin fears he has been the one that was shot — but no. Katsuro tips over from the force of the shot that digs itself into his shoulder.

Yuna knows the rules of fighting without honor better than he does: Strike first, die last.

She charges forward, towards where Katsuro had dropped his sword. She picks it out of the snow easily. Jumping to his son's defense, Katsuro's father strikes Yuna with his katana. She lifts the sword just in time to redirect his blow, but almost drops it in the process.

He doesn't get to see more than that. Jin barely avoids a stab from another samurai. Two men circle him like hungry crows around a corpse. One of them is young, features strikingly similar to Katsuro, most likely his brother, and the other seems to have a slight limp in his step.

He remembers one of them mentioning that their uncle had been hurt when he had just joined that — the older man must be him.

Jin begins with a heavy attack aimed at the enemy that's closest, but it gets deflected with matching force. In spite of his limp, the man's defense is steel-like. Crushing it like he usually does is out of the question — going around it will be the only option.

Snow crunches behind him, Jin turns around just in time to parry another samurai's sword. He's fought multiple enemies before, sure, but mongols don't even come close to trained soldiers from the mainland.

A sidestep is not enough to fool them, or at least not unless it's placed at the perfect angle in the perfect moment. But it's enough to get out of their attacks as unscathed as possible.

Skill, circumstance and luck all align to create Jin's first significant strike. It's enough to take out one of his enemies. Not kill, but neutralize.

Jin's sword carves into the flesh of the older man's upper arm, and is met with the slight resistance of bone. The force he applies is enough to disfigure it: Like a piece of meat, two thirds of what his arm once was hang by a few tendons. He screams, clutching the gash with his other hand, watching blood pour onto the snow and melt it.

"You bastard!" The man shouts, first looking at Jin, then at Katsuro's twin, still stuck in his fighting stance, but unmoving. Frozen with disbelief, he holds out the katana in front of him. But Jin can see his fear in the way that the blade shakes. He uses that second of hesitation to his advantage, charging forward. He places a strong kick against one of the man's knees, causing him to drop down on all fours. Moving to stand behind him, Jin leans forward, sword over his throat. He'll finish off this one, then, come to Yuna's aid.

"Stop!"

At the sound of her strained voice, he does as he's told, looking up. Holding her up against him by her hair, Katsuro's father rests his tanto against her neck. Blood soaks her shirt on her left side, and it's spreading rapidly.

 _Shit_.

Jin's stomach drops. "Let her go." He says, voice firm, even though he's feeling anything but. He can feel his own blood freeze. The samurai doesn't move, only frowns. "Let her go!" Jin demands again, but this time it's not a plea. It's a threat. Mimicking the way the man holds Yuna, he drags up Katsuro's twin by his hair as well, and pushes the katana closer against the young man's neck. "Or he dies."

"I barely know him." The middle aged samurai says. "He's just a ronin the shogun assigned to help us."

 _Then why does he look just like your son?_ Jin wants to ask, but he figures actions speak louder than words. With a force that's slow, but steady, he progressively presses the blade of his sword further into the neck of the young man. Not enough to kill, but enough for blood to start trickling down the man's throat.

He never was good at negotiating, and he never knew he was this good at being ruthless with his own kind.

"Let her go...!" The young samurai pleads. His voice is hoars from the pressure of the sword against his neck. The man doesn't let go of Yuna, so Jin sees no reason to stop inching the blade further and further into his son's skin either. "Father, _please_."

It takes maybe five heartbeats more of hesitation, but he finally complies. Without a sound, Yuna is left to collapse onto the snow like a lifeless piece of meat.

Jin lets the sword fall away from the young man's throat, but not enough to stop being intimidating. It may not be a threat anymore, but it's still a warning. "Get your horses," Jin orders. "And leave."

They do, albeit much more slowly than he'd like them to. It's a dreadful task for the man with the injured arm to climb into the saddle. But once Jin deems them to have gone far enough, he lets go of Katsuro's twin and keeps a watchful eye on him as he leaves.

At a sob of pain, he whips his head around.

"Yuna!" His tone is surprisingly desperate, but hushed. Jin rushes towards her, dropping to his knees beside her form. Her teeth are clenched with pain, the snow on her left side has melted and mixed with blood. "I'm sorry," Jin says, moving her so that the back of her head head rests against his sternum. Her shoulder blades press against his thighs, red is now soaking his hakama.

Her shaky, blood slickened hand grabs a hold of his and places it atop the injury, on her ribs. "Press." She says, word turning into a pained hiss at the end. "Bandages." Yuna adds breathlessly.

"I left the bag tied to Kage's saddle." Jin tells her, though he's not sure wether it's to calm her or his nerves. He can't lose her, she's all that he has left, by the gods _if she dies_ —

Jin whistles once, twice, and soon enough, he can see Kage and Hotaru approach. "I'll get us to Jogaku," he says. It's not a promise, and it could never be one, but he'd die trying to keep it. He can feel her form start to slacken against him, so he increases the pressure he's putting on the wound. She groans. "Stay awake, Yuna."

_Please_ _don't die._

Just as the horses slows to a trot beside him, Yuna's hisses turn silent. And this time, no amount of pressure, or even directly calling out her name elicits any kind of response.


	16. Chapter 16

Even the air feels warm. Jin could fall asleep on the spot if it weren't for a certain gaze fixating him.

"How you made it without either of you bleeding out is still a mystery to me." Sensei Ishikawa pauses, then looks at the other side of the small temple, where Yuna's passed out form lays, surrounded by two monks. "Jury is still out on her, I suppose."

Jin's too worn out to muster the will to talk. His thighs hurt from the awkward position on Kage, since he had to switch to riding bareback to accommodate both himself and Yuna. Doing so in the saddle designed for one person was impossible. And getting her onto Kage's back had been close to impossible.

By that logic, making it to Jogaku without him passing out or her dying is a gift from the Kami themselves.

Jin jumps slightly when the monk that works on one of the cuts on his arm guides the needle through a particularly sensitive spot.

Sensei Ishikawa says nothing, only watches him with narrow eyes from his spot near the entrance of the temple, with only his shoulderblades rested against the wall. He's even more prone to biting remarks when he has been woken up in the dead of the night, Jin notes, and tells himself to avoid repeating this mistake.

"What samurai were it that you fought?" Ishikawa asks, and Jin shakes his head, then pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not sure. But as far as I could tell, it was a family: a man, his brother, and his two sons. They were supposed to take over my estate in Omi."

Only Ishikawa could make a sigh sound so derogatory.

"Is _that_ why you fought them?"

Jin frowns at that, head perking up. " _What_ —?" His stomach starts to churn with anger. Does Ishikawa genuinely consider him _this_ stupid? Sure, someone taking over his estate was not good news, but fighting them about it? He would not have put himself at risk for something like that (Yuna even less so!). "No. I'm not a fool, sensei."

"I'm starting to doubt that." He affirms, but unlike his usual jabs, Ishikawa sounds genuinely convinced of what he's saying. "I heard what happened with Lord Shimura. The shogun will be breathing down your neck for the rest of your life, Sakai. If he doesn't send his best men to hunt you down."

"I know that." He clarifies, then sighs tiredly when the monk stands up from beside him and announces that he has finished tending to his wounds. Jin gives him a thank you.

"I hope you do." Ishikawa glances over Jin's shoulder, to the other side of the temple, where Yuna lays on the floor. "Seems that everyone around you ends up dead, one way or another."

Jin feels like his words have knocked the wind out of him. In the most literal sense possible. He's not sure if he's angry or shocked. Because as much as he'd like to say it's another one of the sensei's nit-picky remarks, Ishikawa's right. His father, Yuriko, Taka, and now Shimura.

"I hope it won't be my turn to die any time soon." Ishikawa says, but with a drop of humor added compared to his usual tone. "And I hope that that sake merchant is the next on the list."

He must mean Kenji. Jin wants to ask him, but figures he'd rather wait until morning. No point in waking him up, too. Jin's too busy trying to process everything that happened today, and, for the first time since they had laid foot in Kamiagata, he feels warm. Talking is one of the last things he wants to do.

He remembers Yuna's breath barely grazing the back of his neck when he had stopped Kage in front of one of the temples and shouted his lungs out for help. He remembers his fingers barely gripping the reins, frozen with cold — he's warmed up now, and only a tingling feeling remains in his fingertips.

"Can you leave me be for the night?"

Ishikawa raises a brow, huffs. "Sure."

Without any other formalities, he leaves, sliding the door shut behind himself. Jin inches closer to the fire in the middle of the room, and switches to look at Yuna. If she's breathing (he hopes she is) it's shallow. Her chest is barely rising.

"Will she make it?"

One of the monks looks his way, and only sighs. "Maybe. The cut is not too bad, but the ride here must have made it worse. She's bled a lot, my lord."

"Is there anything I can do?" He asks, without thinking about his words at all. He's not a healer, but he'd try to be anything just to make sure she gets out of this alive. The monks hadn't let him help when they had just gotten here, had claimed his wounds needed care too, and forced him to sit down and let himself be treated.

If only Jin had known how to treat a wound beyond stopping the bleeding. He could have done more, could have done better. Maybe she would still be conscious.

He'll need to ask her or the monks to teach him.

"There is nothing that we haven't done already." Another healer says. "Just make sure she doesn't stop breathing throughout the night. Come get one of us if she does." Languidly, he rises to his feet, and the other two follow. They greet Jin with a curt bow on their way out.

Clueless for a few seconds, Jin stares at the door they'd just closed, then back at Yuna. The monks have undressed her of everything but her undergarments to take care of her wounds. She must be cold.

After a moment's hesitation, he gets up, taking the blanket he was sitting on with him. His leg muscles protest against it, against every move, but Jin pushes forward regardless. He pads over to where she lays, and plops down beside her passed out form.

She's so small like this. So fragile, so unlike _Yuna_. Jin hates himself for getting her into all of this, for being the reason she's teetering over the edge between life and death. Maybe Ishikawa is right and he truly does bring death to everyone around him, but in that case, he will personally do everything that's in his power to make sure Yuna is shielded from it. Either that, or he'll die trying first.

Positioning his hand on the mat, just beside her head, Jin leans forward, and closes his eyes. He can hear her breath if he focuses enough, but it's barely there.

After a second or two of thinking, he decides it would be best if he stayed beside her for the rest of the night, to be able to monitor her breathing, just like the monks advised. It's the very least he can do.

Jin moves to lay on his side, facing Yuna, then spreads the blanket over her. His shoulder hurts against the hard wooden floor, but that's the last of his worries. How did he let this happen? He should have made quicker work of the two samurai, then rushed to kill that dog-faced bastard himself. He should have done better than this.

He has to blink to get rid of some stray tears, he figures they stem from the fatigue.

The cold seems to be creeping into his bones again, so he moves a little closer to Yuna's form, just enough to lift the blanket and position it over his shoulder as well.

Jin takes a second to soak all of her features into his brain. The soft arch of her nose, her round cheekbones, her chin, her hair, her lips, her now pale skin.

He hopes the next time he sees her face rest so peacefully, it's from something that is actually peaceful. Like sleep, or a good laugh. Jin closes his eyes once more, and tries to see if he can hear her breathing from this position. Barely.

He moves a little closer, so that his sternum now touches her shoulder, and finds that he can now. While he relaxes his arms, he accidentally grazes her hand with his own. Quickly, he retracts it, mentally scolding himself.

Does he even have the right? After everything he's done?

Jin sighs.

This isn't about having the right to. It's about taking care of her, for once. It's about making up for everything she has done for him.

Carefully, he dips his fingertips into her half-open palm and finds that it's cold. So he takes her hand in his, and brings it up to his lips, blowing warm air on it.

He stays like that for a while, imagining that they're still in that house in Kin, and that she's just asleep. He's unsure of what to say. Or even if he should say something, if it wouldn't just be wiser to shut up.

No, he finally decides. Yuna deserves all that's good in the world, and even though Jin will never be able to provide that, the least he can do is an apology.

"Forgive me." Jin whispers, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. He cracks his eyes open to look at her for a few more seconds. When his heart starts to ache unbearably, he closes them back shut, and leans his head forward until his forehead grazes the back of her hand. It's not so cold anymore, but it's undoubtedly lax. Lifeless. When the next breath leaves his lungs, it's shaky, fragile, and barely passes through his tightening throat.

"And please don't leave me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo even though my week has been extremely busy i somehow got 1.5k words out yesterday in like two hours??? yeah here you go, and i hope you enjoy somegood ol angst & fluff combo. i love these two to literal bits.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, but I had my hands full these holidays, and took some time off afterwards. Updates will most likely be more frequent from now on, just like before. Thank you for your patience and happy new year!

He barely sleeps that night. Short-lived nightmares haunt him throughout it all, the kind of dreams that make him jump back into consciousness after a scarce few minutes of rest. In spite of the effect fatigue usually has on him, guilt finds ways to taunt him even in his sleep. Jin could probably call himself an idiot if he tried to recall any of his dreams, so he doesn't even try.

Instead, he tries to think of the nightmares as his good conscience, dragging him out of sleep when he's at the risk of being too far gone. Every time he wakes up, Jin ignores the guilt weighing down on his chest, and listens for Yuna's breath until he's lulled back to sleep by its continuity.

It's moments like these when he starts to think that he was never meant to carry so much guilt, so much sorrow, so much pain. It happens subconsciously, and sometimes, just sometimes, he wants to be selfish. He wants to be held gently, to be told that there is still something left to salvage among the pieces that make him, and he aches to revel in the warm touch of a lover that _means_ it.

He shuts those thoughts down as quickly as they appear. Jin knows that thinking about affection will only leave him aching more once he stops and realizes that it's nowhere to be found except for his own mind. That's one part of the samurai code that he still lives by — putting the persistent longing back to sleep, and being ready to repress it when it returns.

What unfortunately can never be ignored is an impending sense of doom. Every exhale of Yuna's seems so fragile to him that he fears it might be the last, and every intake of breath proves him wrong. It's a back and forth of relief and remorse that seems to leave him even more tired than hours of riding through snow.

A thump against one of the shoji doors has Jin sure he's had another nightmare again, but as his gaze finds the ceiling, he's proven wrong.

"Lord Sakai? Are you awake?"

Judging by the voice it's Kenji, undoubtedly. With a sigh, Jun rubs at his eyes, then rasps a groggy: "Yes."

"May I come in?"

"Wait."

Becoming hyper-aware of the fact that, throughout the night, Jin had nestled closer to Yuna than what would be appropriate through the eyes of a bystander, he shifts away from her. He's barely in his hakama and she's almost naked under the blanket — it's a good thing Kenji has the manners to not barge in without permission.

Jin readjusts the blanket they had shared and makes sure it covers as much of Yuna as possible. There's nothing inherently wrong about the fact that he had slept right beside her, and yet, even though perversion was far from being his motive, Jin feels awkward about it.

He makes his way over to where he had discarded his kimono last night, with the intention of getting dressed. No such luck — it's in desperate need of stitches, and proper washing. Not only yesterday's blood, but also much older, red-brown stains are visible. At least he was wise enough to not take his immaculate white kimono with him. That one would have proven to be a challenge to restore.

While he folds the kimono into a neat square, the image of blood on white fabric persists in his mind's eye. It's strikingly familiar, and out of nowhere, his ribcage feels like it's far too small for his lungs.

Shimura's kimono had been white the day he had killed him. It's a detail that he hadn't even bothered to recall until this moment.

It was white, undoubtedly. The color of purity, of fairness, and of death. Honorable until the very end, but once stained, never as immaculate as before. Jin sits down beside the kimono he had folded, legs crossed, mind racing. He can't tell when exactly his heart started to ache, the pain in the middle of his chest seems to have been there for a lifetime.

"Please tell me when I can come in, my Lord! Your armor is getting heavy."

At first, Jin wants to ask Kenji to leave. But he remembers that talking to Yuna had always helped him get out of his own head in the past few days. While Kenji may not be Yuna, just an exchange of words could help.

"Come in."

After the door is slid open, Jin is greeted with a sight that could probably earn half a smile from him on normal days: Kenji has his arms full with Jin's ghost armor, on top of which are piled some of his other kimonos, and his bow, which he had left at the temple before meeting up with his uncle.

And killing him.

He was too hasty to assume it would be this easy to repress everything.

Jin groans under his breath while he tries to chase away the thoughts about Lord Shimura, and sensei Ishikawa's words from a few hours ago.

He understands that blood is not only difficult to remove from fabric, but from his own brain as well. There always will be a light red stain somewhere in the back of his mind, ever persistent to remind him of his uncle, until the day when he will join him. Hopefully in death, his guilt will leave him be.

"I didn't know what you would want to wear so I brought as much as I could," Kenji speaks up as he lays Jin's belongings down on the floor.

"Thank you, Kenji."

Without bothering with aesthetics, Jin picks out the kimono that seems the most comfortable, and slips it over his shoulders. Kenji seats himself in one of the corners of the temple, back against the wall.

"How are your wounds, my Lord?" He asks after a few moments of silence.

"Not the worst I've had," Jin sighs as he ties his kimono into place. He's unusually glad that Kenji has stricken up a conversation, but he'll be damned if he has any idea how to keep it going.

"It's impressive that you only got away with a few cuts and bruises," He clarifies, "Because the sensei told me you fought other samurai, from the mainland. How skilled are they?"

"The sensei talks to you?" Jin says it in all seriousness — it's hard to believe Ishikawa talks to Kenji unless he is forced to. He realizes how harsh his sentence is only after it's too late.

But the sake merchant only falls silent for a moment, until he bursts into laughter.

"Surprising, I know. He puts up with many things for good sake." Kenji explains, and Jin shakes his head.

 _He's not the only on_ e, he adds mentally, but says nothing. They both pause, and Jin realizes that he has never spent more than three heartbeats in both Kenji's presence and in silence.

"What did the monks say about Yuna?" Kenji asks, tone suddenly serious. He's looking across the room, at her. "She'll make it, right?"

He can palpate the worry out of Kenji's voice, and the ache in his chest amplifies itself. It's all his fault that she's like this, and the worst part is that the damage doesn't end there. He hadn't even thought about Kenji, about his suffering if Yuna were to die. Since when has he become _this_ selfish?

"They don't know for sure." Jin speaks up, realizing he had kept quiet for a second too long.

"I know she will wake up." Kenji says, so convinced of what he is saying that it's weirdly comforting to Jin. "She was so persistent, ever since the first day we met."

Kenji pauses, looking unusually thoughtful. A hybrid between a laugh and a sigh leaves his lungs before he starts to rise back to his feet. "Well then," He speaks up, "I still have a batch of sake that I need to check on."

"You're brewing sake? _Here_?"

"A monk has a small brewery of his own nearby, and he asked me for advice. His recipe is no match for mine, but—" He shrugs. "Sake is sake." A second before exiting the temple, Kenji stops in his tracks, and peeks at Jin over his shoulder. "We just finished bottling the first batch, so if you want to try it..."

His good conscience urges him to decline. Sake sounds like a treat, but not one he can afford, nor deserves right now. "No, thank you."

Kenji gives a short nod, then steps through the door, turning around to close it. And just like that, Jin is alone with his thoughts once more, but unlike the calmness within that he enjoys, he finds nothing but turmoil, which brings him to a new dilemma. On normal days, he would pick the company of his own thoughts. But ever since the blood of his own family has clung to his hands, nothing about himself feels normal anymore.

"Kenji. Wait." The pagoda's floorboards creak when the merchant halts. "I changed my mind. Bring the sake."


	18. Chapter 18

Yuna doesn't wake, neither that day, nor in the three following ones. While the monks have told Jin to remain patient, he feels like he's a child that has to relearn the concept anew. How Yuna has managed to save him, nurse him back to health, and remain sane, all by herself, he has no idea.

The key difference, Jin concludes, is that it was never her fault that he got hurt. She was always there to save the day, never to get him into even more trouble. Once again, guilt is at fault. Aside from Jin himself.

"The wound is getting better, my Lord," one of the monks speaks up. With his trained hands, he can manage to change Yuna's bandages in less than a few minutes. Jin helps the only way he can: with strength. He holds up Yuna's torso, elbows hooked under her shoulders, to ease the bandaging process. "And her skin isn't so pale anymore. She should wake up soon."

He doesn't even know what to believe at this point. Are the monks lying to ease his pain, or does he want to believe their words so much that he fools himself into thinking he's telling the truth?

"Thank you." Jin sags as the monk ties off the bandage, then moves to stand. As carefully as he can, he lays Yuna back down on the mat. It's difficult to hold and carry her when all her muscles are so lax. Not only because her weight seems to pull down on his joints more, but because it's always there to remind him of his fault.

The floors of the pagoda creak under hurried, pressed steps.

"Sakai!" Sensei Ishikawa pushes the shoji door to the side so hard that it starts shaking. "Pack your things."

Adrenaline rushes through his veins within less than a second. "What's happening, sensei?"

"Five samurai are at the gates. They're looking for the Ghost and an archer woman with a wound on her side."

 _Shit_.

Jin's blood seems to stop in his veins and freeze.

The monk that had just bandaged Yuna waits for no orders, he darts towards one of the corners of the temple, and returns with a basket, which he hands Jin.

Packing is one thing, sure, but where should he go? How can he get out of here? All by himself, he would have managed, but he can't with Yuna. Not if she's unconscious. Not all over again.

He can come up with something, Jin tells himself, he just needs to think. He can take one of the carriages, use that to transport Yuna without undoing how much she has healed thus far. But what if the samurai recognize him?

Sensing his stress, the sensei speaks up. "Stop thinking and just _pack_. I talked to the sake merchant, he'll try to sneak you out of here. You'll meet him at the northern gate."

Some of his worries melt away at that. "Thank you, sensei."

Kenji is a decent swindler, he'll find a way to get them out of here. Once there is nothing left to say, the sensei does what he excels at: watching judgmentally while Jin packs as much as he can.

Jin starts to stuff some of his kimonos into the basket, along with some of Yuna's. What else, what else? Two mats, food, he needs to take rice with him—

"You knew this day was coming," Ishikawa speaks up.

"I was hoping it wouldn't be this soon."

"The shogunate is as merciless as the Ghost. Keep up." He huffs, then nods at the basket. "Give me that once you've finished packing. I'm not carrying her."

—

"You are welcome to check all pagodas, my Lords. We have nothing to hide." A monk's distant voice says just as Jin exits the small temple, after the sensei. Yuna sags against his torso and arms, but at least she's warm. The blanket they had shared when they had first gotten to Jogaku is cocooned around her. Jin's shoulder is still very much in the middle of healing, he realizes after a few seconds of carrying her. But he doesn't let the pain stop him, if anything, he tries to hold her as securely as he can while also keeping his step light.

"The monks at the Cedar Temple didn't have anything to hide either, but we still have to check." A more stern, low voice speaks. Definitely a samurai. "Let's start with this one."

"This way, Sakai. Won't be long until they get here."

The sensei strides ahead, basket full with belongings slung over his shoulder. He doesn't bother checking behind himself to make sure Jin is following, only leads the way with the confidence of a true samurai. They make their way uphill, not using the stone path to avoid being seen. Kenji awaits just outside the walls, right beside the northern gate. His cart is empty, doors wide open, and a few boxes with gourds of sake sake piled up beside it. Both Kage's and Hotaru's reins are tied to the side of the cart.

"Get in, quick."

Jin does as he's told, making sure he isn't hitting Yuna's head while he's carrying her into the cart. He lays her down as carefully as he can, then turns around. Kenji and the sensei are piling up the sake boxes between him and the entrance, creating a small wall of sorts. If someone were to open the cart to check, they would, at least at first glance, see nothing but the non-human cargo, Jin realizes. Smart.

"They're coming up here," Ishikawa says as he slams the cart's doors shut. "Get going."

Jin shufts closer to Yuna in the cramped space, and moves her so that she rests her head against his arm. It'll probably go numb under both the influence of the cold and the weight, but as long as Jin knows there's no potential of her getting hurt, he'll take it.

The second the cart starts moving, he fears the boxes with sake will all come crashing down upon him. By some divine luck, they don't.

He stays like that for about a minute, in complete silence, only watching the small clouds of breath that form in front of Yuna's nose at every breath.

"Hey, you, merchant, halt. Where are you headed?"

The cart stops, and as seems to do Jin's heart.

"Cedar Temple, my Lord! The monks there don't have a brewery. Someone has to take care of their poor souls, am I right?" Kenji sounds so friendly, and somehow perfectly...dumb. Exactly the tone you'd expect from a mere peasant and not a swindler. If raising no suspicion were an art, Kenji could be called a master.

"You have a brewery here?"

"Ask for Hansuke if you want a drink, and tell him to have you try some of Kenji's sake. You won't regret it!"

"Thank you for the advice. Move along."

A bump in the road shakes the cart as starts moving once more.

The journey is long, much slower than on horseback, and the cold becomes more and more biting, considering Jin has no way to move in the tight space. Entering Azamo bay had been a joyride compared to this.

Still, Jin tries to be vigilant about making sure the cold isn't getting to Yuna, at least not more than it's getting to him. When her fingertips feel like icicles against his own, cold palms, Jin carefully moves her. It takes a while to find a position that is both comfortable and optimal for conserving body heat, but he finds it quickly enough: her back is against his chest, his legs on either side of her, and his chin atop her head.

He doesn't know when exactly it happens, but falls asleep. Jin wakes up a few hours later, mouth dry, still in that same position, but with his chin nestled over the soft blanket, where her neck meets her shoulder. Another nightmare about Shimura had plagued his mind before a bump in the road had caused him to stir awake.

"Kenji?" Jin asks, swallowing some of his own cottony saliva. After a quick look at the basket, he realizes that the thought of bringing water hadn't even crossed his mind.

"Still here, Lord Sakai."

"How much longer? I feel like I could breathe out ice if I tried hard enough." Not to mention that any kind of feeling in his fingers is a distant dream. He hopes he still has all toes.

"A short while. We're almost there."

"Good."

Even his joints feel frozen when he shifts to check on Yuna. She's still breathing, thank the kami, but her hands are as cold as his own.

With a sigh, Jin takes her hands, puts them between his palms as if he were praying, then starts rubbing. He's not sure how much heat that actually creates, but it still creates an allusion of warmth, at the very least.

The carriage halts after a few more minutes, and Jin feels like the luckiest man alive.

"Look, it's Kenji! Go get Norio and the others! How much sake did you bring this time, my friend?"

"Not enough." He hears Kenji answer. "I brought passengers instead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the filler and I hope you enjoyed! I promised updates would be more frequent after the holidays, and I'm trying to keep my promise to the best of my abilities. Much love <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, SUPER sorry for the wait. I'm overflowing with ideas for these two and this fic but I physically don't have enough time to put them to paper at the moment. Life has been crazy, but I'll try to keep updates frequent!

Freedom comes in many forms, and on this day, it tastes like fresh, cutting winter air combined with the woodiness of cedar.

The monks offer to carry Yuna once Jin makes his way out of the cart and turns around to pick her up. He kindly declines. The last thing he needs is for them to carry her away from him, and for her to wake up the kami know when, all alone.

Kenji finds a way to keep himself busy, by helping the monks unload what little sake he has brought and carrying it down to the pagodas.

Just as he wants to ask for guidance, a voice grabs Jin's attention.

"Lord Sakai." He'd recognize those soft tones anywhere. "You made it out alive." _Norio_.

 _At what cost?_ He wonders, keeping those thoughts to himself. Norio doesn't need to know all about his inner turmoil.

"Barely, but yes." Jin states plainly, readjusting his hold on Yuna. "If you and the other monks can spare a cart, I'll be gone before the sun sets."

"Me and the other monks are not about to shun you like a rabid dog that's stumbled into the temple." Norio says as he nods for Jin to follow him down a narrow, rocky path. "The samurai have already come looking for you here, this morning. This is the place they least expect you to be."

Norio's not wrong. Spending the night here, catching some final proper rest before leaving might be wise. He needs to hatch up a plan, and think of where to go next. A warm temple in which he can do so without the biting cold sounds perfect.

"Do you have somewhere Yuna and I could spend the night?" Jin asks, giving in to Norio's proposal.

He nods. Perfect.

A distant caw of a crow can be heard while Norio falls silent and shakes his head. "I'd like to ask you to stay longer, but..." He sighs, though it's barely audible. The warrior monk is almost as trained in the art of containing emotions as Jin is. With a few exceptions. "It's probably for the best you don't stay in Kamiagata for longer than you need to."

"I know," Jin answers. "Samurai from the mainland were in Jogaku too. I had to sneak out of there."

Norio turns to look at them over his shoulder as he least the way; his eyes linger on Yuna with worry.

"How did they catch her?"

He too would wonder how a group of samurai managed to catch one of the most skilled thieves on this island.

"They didn't. Not today, at least. We had to fight our way out of a conflict with a family of samurai while we were headed to Jogaku."

"I see." Norio stops in front of the temple that lays right beside the frozen lake, and slides the shoji door open for Jin. As he steps towards the entrance, Norio offers him a soft, warm smile with only one corner of his mouth.

"She's lucky to have you care for her, you know."

Jin knows, he _knows,_ that those words have no purpose other than encouragement, but it feels like they're rubbing salt on a wound he can't quite locate.

She's not lucky, Jin wants to say. Her brother is dead, because of me, the samurai are looking for her, because of me, she's hurt, _because of me_.

And the only reason he is still standing and alive is because of her. If anything, he's her bad luck charm. If she were to run for the hills the second she woke up, he wouldn't stop her.

"Let me know if the firewood runs out, I'm sure you both need to warm up."

"Thank you."

He lays her down gently on a goza mat Norio brings him.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" He asks, and Jin shakes his head as a response. He's not exactly sure, the sense of cold in his whole body has overridden most of what he can feel.

"I'm just tired." Jin half-lies. He is, in fact, extremely tired, but not in a way that sleep can cure. He's not sure what can.

"Forgive me, Jin, but that look you have in your eyes isn't one only of sleepless nights."

He doesn't know what to say to that. Norio is not wrong. But if there were a way for Jin to source the pain, he must have tried that and a hundred others without succeeding.

There is no _one_ source. Why bother trying to fix one thing if everything else is breaking down on you all at once?

Without another word, Norio pads over to once of the corners of the pagoda, where a small buddha shrine lays. He sits in front of it, cross legged, head tipped forward. A few more seconds of silence pass, and Jin starts to wonder if he should join Norio, out of respect. But the fire is far too alluring to move away from.

Silence settles over them both, Jin watches the flames engulf what remains of the wood as he thinks.

His old life seems so distant. What had kept him going throughout the whole invasion was the thought of simpler times ahead, of his old life. How privileged he had been before being hunted not only by the enemy, but by his own people.

Are the samurai so dead set on catching him only because of the death of his uncle alone?

He did his best to ensure the injuries he had caused to that family weren't a death sentence. Enemy or not, raising his blade against other samurai feels much worse than butchering a thousand mongols. Yuna would have laughed if she could hear his thoughts.

In this aspect, she is much more ruthless than him, and has her priorities set in black and white, not so much in Jin's grey. She knows that her own survival comes first. And yet, she's the one whose life hangs by a thread.

How is that fair?

It's a feeling he hates admitting to, but sometimes Jin senses that a divine force, be it the kami or something else, is just toying with him. Hurling whatever they can find at him to see just how much he can take before the dam breaks.

"How long has it been since you last meditated?" Norio asks, face still turned towards the shrine.

"Too long," Jin admits reluctantly. Meditating used to help before, but he's not so sure about now. He's not even sure if he can meditate anymore, if he can get his own brain to quiet down when it's so turbulent.

"Join me," Norio says, and though it sounds like a request, it's more of a suggestion.

Ignoring his aching joints, Jin gives in, walking over to the corner of the pagoda. When he sits beside Norio, he can clearly see that his eyes are closed shut.

It's much colder in the corners of the temple than in the middle, where the fire is, but there still are a few candles on the shrine. The warmth they provide is not as great, but their soft light calms his soul.

"Peace rarely finds us unless we seek it out ourselves," Norio says.

 _Peace has not found me since I watched my father die_ , Jin wants to say, but chooses to refrain.

"Have you found it?" He asks instead.

"I've found bits and pieces."

He lets Norio's words resonate a little while longer. Even though meditation doesn't imply letting your thoughts run, but rather chasing them away, he does nothing to stop the flow of his own musings.

Soon enough, he finds that his initial idea was wrong. He has felt peace since his father died.

And it has found him without the need for pursuing. Not too often, but he can think of some instances. Enjoying good meals with good company. Dipping his body into an onsen. Reading. Laughing while drunk after someone makes a bad joke or tells a story. Sleeping after a tiring day. 

And the last time he had encountered it was a few days ago, in that old house in Kin. His back against Yuna's, their breaths synced, their warmth shared.

That had been peace. Or a fraction of it.

"For warriors like us, bits and pieces might be enough," Jin speaks up, and, when he looks Norio's way, he can see him smile gently.

—

He can't claim he's ever used carts or carriages often, and he knows exactly why. The amount they slow down a horse is maddening. Not to mention the fact that he's now limited to using roads only.

Kage, albeit a stallion trained for war, looks anything but happy to pull a cart, and Hotaru hates carrying anyone that isn't Yuna.

Or maybe she just doesn't like _him_. Jin's trying not to take the way she occasionally shakes her head personally.

The cold is still biting, but at least it's sunny, and, now that he's moving, the cold affects him less. Jin just hopes the additional blankets the monks had donated are keeping Yuna warm, too.

The last thing she needs is to lose a toe or finger because of him.

The good part is that he at least knows exactly where he's headed. During last night's dinner, Kenji had suggested he try to make it to northern Toyotama, more precisely to the Jito's foothills. A hot spring is in the area, he had claimed, and while he will have to spend the night sleeping in the cart besides Yuna, it should do. After that, Jin figures he'll return to where Yuna had nursed him back to health when he had just escaped his uncle. That shack was in a remote spot, perfect for keeping low. If it had worked once, why shouldn't it work again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Nanaoise8squad for suggesting a Jin and Norio meditiating sesh! I couldn’t NOT add it in.


	20. Chapter 20

The hot spring isn't too difficult to find, considering the openness of the field. Jin can't say that the lack of trees doesn't feel unsettling, but he tries not to dwell on it for too long.

Instead, he uses some of the cedar wood from the temple to start a fire. He leaves some barley and wheat along with water from the hot spring to soak in a bowl, hoping to obtain something close to porridge. There's nothing he can boil them in, so this will have to do.

Upon having gathered a yarrow balm the monks had given him and fresh bandages, he prepares to undress to tend to his healing wounds. Until he hears a creak, undoubtedly of wood. The cart.

His first thought is that Yuna is finally, _finally_ awake, so he drops everything and makes it to the cart faster than he can comprehend.

He can't believe his own two eyes.

Yuna's approaching the edge of the cart on unsteady legs. The look on her face is one of both fear and focus — she looks like she's trying to figure out her situation and is ready for just about anything to come crashing down on her.

Only the kami know what might have gone through her head as she returned to consciousness, but Jin blames himself at the thought of her waking up all alone.

"Yuna," He speaks, as calmly as he can, approaching her. Her head whips in his direction, and for less than a second, she looks frightened. "It's just the two of us, don't worry."

She exhales at his words, one hand propped against the cart to support herself. "I was suspecting the worst," she admits, moving forward.

"You had every right," Jin says as he watches her advance with anything but her usual ease and light-footedness. He can tell she's getting dizzier with the second, so he puts his hand in her reach. She's too proud to accept it.

"How did you get us—" She hops out of the cart, but in her lightheaded state, she stops mid-sentence, almost tipping over. Jin extends his arms with lightning fast reflexes, and she's quick enough to grab a hold of them. Within seconds, she's steady again, but Jin can't find the courage to let go of her forearms.

She's close. He wishes he could hug her and mentally thanks every deity above that she's made it.

"Careful. It took you a long time to wake up," He half-scolds her for her stubbornness and half-asks her to go easy on herself. Jin dips his head a little lower to get a better glimpse of her face. Aside from the unpleasant look he expects from nausea, he picks up on some pain on her expression as well. "How are you feeling?"

"Just fine," She says, her fingertips lingering on his palms as she retracts her hands out of his hold.

"For how long was I gone?"

"Long enough to make me worry." Jin realizes his words only after he has said them, and rushes to fix them with a clearing of his throat. "For about four days."

She smirks at that in a way that Jin can't pinpoint, but it's both fox-like and sleepy. "Four days is nothing compared to you back in Komoda."

Good to know Yuna hasn't changed. Jin's heart feels like it's swelling with pleasant warmth just from her usual sarcastic tone. It sounds sweeter than any melody he's ever heard.

"I was making porridge." He offers her his arm for support. "Let me help you to the campfire and make you some too."

She still doesn't accept any form of help.

"I'm no old crippled woman. Take care of the porridge." Yuna tells him as she drags herself towards the fire, and Jin follows. He'd never tell her, but he watches her every move with great care, ready to step in if she were to lose her footing once again. No such thing happens, but she still lets out a hiss of pain once she plops beside the campfire.

He also figures she might be thirsty, so he fills the bowl with water first and lets her drink up, before he returns to prepare the porridge in it.

"Komoda was different from this, you know," Jin argues as he adds a fistful of wheat and barley into the bowl.

Yuna shrugs with one shoulder. "I guess it _is_ easier for a samurai to drag around a peasant woman than the other way around."

"Not what I meant." He huffs. She's barely awake and still back on her feet in no time. Yuna is braving her way through everything so remarkably that it almost makes him jealous. But that would be hyperbolic. First and foremost, he's happy that she's alive, talking, and still very much her old self.

Shuffling of clothes can be heard, and when he glances over his shoulder, Jin sees Yuna has loosened the bandages and is checking on the wound on her side. She hasn't undone her coat, she's only lifting it. Her fingers barely graze the stitches and the red-tinted and swollen flesh below them. The injury looks like it's healing well enough. Or so the monks had said.

"Did you make these?" She asks, gesturing at the sutures. Jin shakes his head. "I thought so." It's said playfully, but he can't help but wonder what she means.

Jin sets the bowl of porridge besides his own, a small distance away from the campfire, before picking up the balm and bandages he had left there when Yuna had woken up. He's not sure where exactly to sit down beside her — he had held her closely back in that cart ride to the cedar temple, sure, but the situation has changed since then. The line between proper and improper is blurred, so he settles for a safe distance of half an arm's length away.

"What do you mean by that?" He finally asks, and she gives him a once again tired, but still playful half-smile.

"It means that samurai are only good at causing wounds, not mending them."

He's not as bold as he'd like to think he is. And when he is, his attempts usually fall flat, especially with Yuna. But this time that doesn't matter; it's not only about making it clear that he cares, it's about making it clear that he's more than a fighter.

"Let me change that."

Yuna raises a brow, and he can tell she's tensed up suddenly.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"That I'm not _just_ a samurai," He explains as he takes the balm in one hand and, propping himself on the other, shifts a little closer.

The look on her face isn't one of panic, but it's not one of serenity either. Was it wrong of him to do this? Does she feel threatened? Has he gone too far?

"Jin," Yuna speaks up, reaching to take the balm from him. "I told you. I can take care of myself just fine."

 _That doesn't mean you have to_ , he wants to say. But he's afraid, of what she might think of him, if he might give off a wrong idea, if he's showing feelings he's not supposed to show.

Jin suppresses the urge to shake his head.

This isn't about anything related to feelings.

It never was. There are no feelings to speak of, except for mutual respect, friendship, and care. Everything else are some stupid intrusive thoughts of his, thoughts he won't give in to.

And this isn't anything of the sort, this is about making things right. It's about showing her that he cares just as much as she does, even though he rarely gets a chance to express it.

Yuna's already limping towards the spring, rag in hand. And just as she stops beside it, Jin rises to his feet and crosses the distance between them within seconds.

"You barely let me do anything when I woke up after I returned from Omi, even though you have it worse now than I did then. I want to make it up to you."

"You've dragged me all the way here."

"As did you, from Komoda."

Yuna sighs, closing her eyes for longer than usual while she blinks. She's tired.

"You're so stubborn, Jin Sakai."

"I don't like to have my abilities questioned."

He barely catches the rag when she tosses it at him. But he _does_ catch it, so he takes it as a win. That's all the invitation he needs.

With a pained huff, Yuna sits on one of the rocks beside the onsen (after she once again refuses help), lifting her clothes just enough to bare the wound on her ribs. Jin, upon dipping the rag into the hot spring, wrings it out. He approaches her with careful steps, settling on his knees behind her.

Making sure his movements are as gentle as he can muster, Jin runs the rag over the stitches. Especially because of the snow around them, her warmth is even more amplified. Yuna's skin turns to gooseflesh, so much that it's even visible on her neck, below her ponytail. Jin spares no comment on that, he does his best to focus on the task at hand instead. He reminds himself that this is his chance to make all his wrongs a little more right — the last thing he wants to do is even more wrong.

"Tell me what happened," Yuna encourages him, her voice showing no trace of what her skin gave away. "After I fell unconscious."

"I somehow managed to drag you up onto Kage's back after the samurai left. When we got to Jogaku, you were so cold that I thought the ride there had killed you."

"It'll take much more than that to get rid of me." Yuna's tone still sounds playful, and perfectly calm.

"I know."

Jin deems the wound clean enough. He takes the balm instead, dipping his fingers into the mixture before he spreads it over the stitches. Yuna flinches in the very slightest at the first contact.

"Your hands are cold." It's both a complaint and an observation; Jin can't think of anything smart to say other than an apology.

"So," Yuna says after a pause, glancing around herself. "Why are we here? And not in Jogaku?"

"Samurai came looking for us there after what we did. But I got to take most of our things."

"Shit." When she sighs, Jin watches a copious amount of steam rise from her mouth. He remembers getting up in the middle of the night to check her breath, how it had barely been there. And her skin is perfectly warm under his fingertips now, compared to the lifeless lukewarm from before. She's alive, Jin doesn't know why it's taking so long for the information to sink in. And he doesn't know why small details like the temperature of her skin or the abundance of her breath make him so happy, but they do.

"How did they get there so soon?" She asks.

"Word travels fast when it comes to criminals."

He heard Yuna draw in a breath of slight surprise, it's clear she hadn't expected his choice of words. As much as he dislikes it too, Jin does nothing to tiptoe around the truth, at least not in this aspect.

Jin puts the balm away and reaches for the bandages. He unrolls an amount he deems sufficient, then, using his tanto, he cuts it off. He tries his best not to let his mind drift to his uncle again, and this time, he succeeds. Maybe it's the fact that she's alive, and that she's right here, a heartbeat away, that is so particularly soothing.

"Lift your arms a bit." Jin takes a hold of one end of the bandage, then guides the rest of it around her torso. He resists the temptation to rest his head between her neck and shoulder in the favor of having a better view of what he's doing. And not only for that reason. The idea of that sort of tenderness allures him in the same way that sleep reels in a tired man. The difference is that he doesn't give in.

The bandage ends just above her navel, so he stops. To tie it properly, he'd have to get too close, and he doesn't want to risk anything.

"Tie this into a knot," He instructs, handing the fabric to her. "I'll check on the porridge."

Yuna does as he asks of her before she pulls her coat back down and readjusts it. His fingers are itching to stroke her skin again, Jin realizes subconsciously, and rushes to chase that thought out of his mind.

"Just as I was about to compliment you on becoming a the first samurai healer," Yuna quips as she looks up at him. "Is it ready?"

"Not yet. I think it would take hours unless we boil it." Jin takes the two bowls in hand, returns to her side. "But I think we're both hungry enough."

She takes her portion from him, scrunching up her nose as she chews on some of the still hard grains. The taste is anything but great, Jin finds out as he starts eating, but he couldn't care less. He's gone the whole day without food, and even half-hard grains with slightly sulfurous water is better than nothing at all.

"Was Kenji in Jogaku?" Yuna speaks up between bites.

"Yes. He helped us when the samurai got there."

Yuna lets out a slightly amused hum as she chews.

"And he was very worried about you."

"You didn't think he would be?" She asks, and he doesn't know what to answer.

"It just surprised me." Jin looks at half the portion of porridge still left in his bowl, he sighs. "He kept me from going crazy. I don't know how you saved me time after time and didn't go insane while waiting for me to wake up."

It's the truth, and he has bared the truth to her before. Told her he would die for her, that he had chosen to be executed by the Khan over her, but this is different. It's not about sacrifice, it's about the fact that he _cares_. He cares so much that it's scary.

Yuna leans the side of her head on his shoulder.

"Because Komoda _was_ different." She says, her tone so soft that it could render even the darkest of storms to a mere few droplets. "We've been through too much since then."

And I would do it all again, Jin thinks, just to reach this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love all of you and these two a little too much. hence why i got out so many words on such short notice. if you notice any spelling errors, do let me know! I wanted to get out this chapter ASAP so I might have missed some things. Hope you enjoyed! <3


	21. Chapter 21

He's starting to get used to waking up next to someone, and Jin isn't sure what to make of it. The cart provides little shelter from both the wind and the first shy ray of sunlight that wakes him. It's cloudy outside, the air is damp, and a little colder than the day before.

Yuna is still asleep, her head rested against his upper arm. Jin is suspecting that she likes being aware of the presence of another in her sleep just as much as he does. Or maybe she's particularly missing it, since Taka had most likely never left her side until...

Jin shakes his head to wake himself up and get rid of negative thoughts. It's the last thing he needs so early in the morning.

He can't blame her for not waking up at the same time as him. She needs the rest more than anyone he can think of. So, after a few more minutes of staring up at the sky, he carefully moves away from her. He packs up what little they have taken out yesterday, and stores it in the cart at Yuna's feet.

Kage has a defiant, angry look in his eyes when he understands that yesterday wasn't his last day of cart-pulling, but he has no other choice.

Just as he's about to saddle up onto Hotaru's back, Jin senses a presence behind himself.

"You could have just woken me up, you know."

Of course she wouldn't be far behind. She never is. Jin turns around, and feels something in his chest melt at her sleepy face. Nothing he has ever seen has looked quite as endearing and sweet as her right now. "You need the rest," he says truthfully.

"Lucky for you, I'm not about to be a stubborn bastard about not needing to sleep. Unlike someone else."

"What does that mean?" Jin asks while he's focused on checking the bridle on Hotaru, making sure every knot and strap is in place.

"You know what that means." She clears her throat, lowering her voice to make it sound more masculine. " _The ghost never sleeps_."

Hotaru neighs after Yuna speaks, and Jin is starting to suspect she's picking up on her owner's taunting tone. And joining in.

" _Very funny_." He pats Hotaru's neck in an attempt to silence her, then switches to look at Yuna. "But I forgot to laugh."

"It's alright, you do that often."

Jin snorts at her answer, which melts into a soft chuckle. He certainly hadn't expected her to one up his response, though it is starting to become a increasingly frequent occurrence. He should start getting used to it.

When he looks up, he catches Yuna staring at him with an unreadable, yet somehow dreamily lost expression. But it disappears just as quickly as it had appeared: stumbling back into reality, she looks down, shaking her head in the slightest. Her eyes dart back up at him, and she approaches.

"If you're feeling better, you could ride Hotaru, and I'll walk," Jin suggests, offering her Hotaru's reins.

"You don't mind?"

He shakes his head no, and watches Yuna as she guides her horse beside a bigger stone near the hot spring. That's all she needs to climb onto the saddle. "I have a feeling that Hotaru doesn't like me very much," Jin adds, while Yuna squeezes her legs around the mare to ease her into a trot.

She looks at him over her shoulder, and it strikes him that the sunlight catches on her features just right. He wishes he could stop time for a second longer and let his gaze linger on her face.

"She didn't like me at first either." Yuna explains. "It just takes her some time to warm up."

"Reminds me of someone I know." Jin smiles, more to himself as he grabs a hold of Kage's reins and tugs him forward, following Yuna's trail.

—

It's almost midnight when they get to the old shack in Toyotama. They've only left it a little over a week ago, but Jin is happy to see the run down building.

Yuna, not so much. And if she is, she's not showing it. Jin isn't sure why exactly that is, but he knows her spirits had been higher up until very recently.

He finally gets the courage to ask her what's bothering her only after she has carried some of their supplies into the shack, and is returning to get the rest.

Yuna stops in her tracks, and her gaze holds both pain and fatigue, and Jin, honest to every single deity, would pay any price just to see all that fade into something gentler. Something more peaceful. But he knows that there is no such price, and no one to pay it to.

The will to swallow everything that's bitter and painful in the hopes that one day, a drop of something sweeter will follow is all that he has. All that they _both_ have.

"I'm worried they might find us here, too," Yuna confesses.

Jin sighs, focusing back on freeing Kage from the cart. She has all the right to worry — he is worried himself, too. There's no good answer to come up with.

Kage neighs, his black coat glistening with sweat in the moonlight. Dragging the cart uphill had really taken its toll on him.

"We've fought them before, we'll fight them again. Then we'll go hide somewhere else." He says it like it's easy, but he knows it's not. And still, as of late, the best strategy has been to let himself cross a bridge when he gets to it. Planning has not brought him half as much as improvising, at least not as of late.

Yuna can see right through his facade.

"We barely got out of the last fight alive," she says, and Jin suppresses another sigh as he undoes the final belt around Kage's back. He's never seen a horse look quite as pleased as his stallion does.

"And we have no choice but to keep going." Jin turns to look at her, but he can't make himself hold her gaze for more than a few seconds.

"We could leave Tsushima," This time, Yuna says _that_ like it's easy. They both need to stop lying to themselves, he thinks. Nothing will ever be easy, not anymore. And for some, it never was, he realizes with one look at her.

"You know that's not going to change anything." He tells her, and something in the way she looks at him changes. "We'll still be hunted."

"I know." She sighs.

Yuna takes the rest of their supplies inside, and he follows, taking them from her once he reaches her side, and carrying them the rest of the way.

The metal pot they'd left is still there. Jin feels like he's seeing an old friend.

They settle in quickly, and he insists on being the one to prepare the meal. So Yuna remains silent, only watching him as he makes the best out of what little they still have.

The short amount of time spent eating comes with mostly small talk. Yuna asks him other small details about their journey, and he gladly shares them with her. After enough time, her tenseness seems to fade once more, and she even goes as far as to tease him for calling her his wife when they had come up with a fake backstory for the mainland Samurai.

Jin has no answer to that, other than pretending to clean the (already clean) bowls and hoping that his face doesn't flush from embarrassment as easily as it does when he's drinking. (Ryuzo had teased him enough about that.) His reaction to Yuna's remark alone makes him question just how much he had changed after all. Apparently, the stage in which bold women made him blush is not so far behind him after all.

Sleep comes very easily to him that night. It's because of multiple factors, the most important of which are the warmer temperature, but also the feeling of having a roof and walls above and around him.

Jin is lured into unconsciousness almost without any demons plaguing his mind, and, after a few hours he wakes up from a dream that he can't recall.

The sky is clear, and slowly turning from dark blue into a soft orange. He can tell from the hole in the roof.

Yuna holds his arm as tight as a vice, one hand around his upper arm, the other around his wrist, and her forehead cuddled into his shoulder.

On the very surface, the sight is endearing. Until Jin notices that her breathing sounds strangled, and that her grip on him grows almost painful. He concludes that she must be having a nightmare. His other hand hovers above her, hesitating on whether he should wake her or not.

The decision ends up not being his to make. When he sets his hand on her shoulder, he doesn't need to shake her. She wakes up with a harsh inhale all by herself.

"Taka?" She whispers softly, her eyes only half-lidded before they go wide. Her gaze finds his, and Jin can positively feel his heart crack. "Jin," Yuna rushes to correct herself, her tone little louder, but still only a whisper. "I woke you, didn't I?"

"No. But you could easily strangle a mongol to death in your sleep, if you wanted to." He nods at her fingers, still half clenched around his bicep, and she rushes to let go.

"Force of habit," She admits, sounding both embarrassed and shaken up.

He raises a brow, and gives a questioning hum.

"It's just..." Yuna looks away as her words trail off. "When we were still kids, and at the slave camp, the brothers would sometimes take some of us in the middle of the night. They did it so silently too, you couldn't even tell who they'd picked until you heard the screams outside."

She looks far gone, and her mind seems years and miles away.

Jin frowns, he wants to say something to mend those memories or make them just a little more bearable. But he knows that no such power is in his possession, other than simply listening to what she has to say.

"What did they do?" He asks, and Yuna is still staring at a wall, unable to meet his glance.

"Depends on the person. A beating, branding us like cattle, making us step on hot coal— They always found something to entertain themselves." She looks back at his arm, and at her own two hands. "I used to hold onto Taka like this while we slept. If they took him, I would either know, or they would have to take me too. And now it's just...a habit." Her eyes close for a brief second, before she looks back at him. She's trying her best to put those memories away, the look in her eyes shows more presence than before. Jin wishes nothing more than to hold her close, but she shifts away. "You can go back to sleep. I won't do it again."

"Does it help you sleep if you hold onto my arm?"

The question is put a bit more tactlessly than it should be, but Jin can't conjure the effort to tiptoe around his curiosity.

"A bit." Yuna shakes her head dismissively, then, she begins to turn to face away from him. "But you don't have—"

"If it helps you." He grabs a hold of her wrist, not even half as harsh as Yuna's grip had been on him, and guides her hand to rest atop his shoulder. "Then I don't mind."

A retort is on the tip of her tongue, he can clearly tell even in the semi-darkness. But whatever she has to say never leaves her thoughts; instead, after a moment's reluctance, she moves to rest her forehead back against his shoulder. She closes her eyes, and he follows her example.

Warmth spreads in Jin's chest, and some even reaches his face, but at least now he needn't worry about that.

He had always subconsciously assumed Yuna fought her inner demons with much more bravado than he did. Yet in spite of that, finding out that even his presence is appreciated and valued creates a sort of intimacy he had never experienced before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my boyfriend who, in spite of not having played Ghost, still avidly reads through every chapter I post and tells me all the little details he notices, and constantly encourages me to keep writing. You thought I was joking when I said I'd give you a shoutout. Surprise :D <3


	22. Chapter 22

He sleeps so tightly that even waking up feels like the most difficult task in the morning. And that alone is something Jin rarely has to fight with.

As for Yuna, she's either the fastest human to ever heal, or is insanely stubborn — but Jin is certain it's a homogeneous combination of the two; the latter being the main component.

When he returns from his quick, and surprisingly successful hunt a little before noon, she's up on her feet as well. And of course, has found something to busy herself with.

On the big old tree beside the shack, she has set up a round, wooden target, and she's standing a few steps away from it, holding...kunai?

"Jin," She speaks up, her head turning in his direction when he steps in her line of vision. With a flick of her wrist, she flips the kunai so that its grip rests in her hand instead of the blade. "You returned fast."

"A deer almost ran into me after I took out my bow," He admits. Jin felt sorry to kill it; his usual prey before he had to hunt for his own food were animals that attacked him first. Pickiness is a distant dream now. If anything, he tells himself, he should be thankful he got off so easy.

As he walks around Kage to take the carcass of the horse's back, he sneaks a more careful glance at Yuna's target. A few throwing knives line the grass at the tree's roots, and only two have their blades stuck into the wood.

"Practicing your aim?" He asks with a nod at her attempts.

"A little. I've never used kunai," She confesses. "Not even for farming."

To hear that she's not well-versed on a kind of combat he had considered basic is a surprise, to say the least.

Putting the kunai down, she rushes to his side and offers to help him carry what soon will be their next meal. He declines, her wound is still healing.

"How so?" Jin gives her an inquiring look as he sets down the dead deer beside the coals of what used to be their campfire. He's going to have to start it again. "I always thought you'd be good with any weapon."

It's better left unsaid, but they both know what he means. Circumstance has taught the both of them versatility and how to use anything to their advantage. If they hadn't adapted, neither of them would be here.

"If I was lucky enough to get a hold of a knife, I couldn't risk losing it," she explains. "So no. I'm not that good with throwing."

 _Makes sense_ , he realizes with a pang of guilt. Even things he considers mere supplies are a luxury to some, if not most people on this island. How has he not gotten used to that idea yet?

"I can teach you while we let the stew cook," He says, looking up at her. "Do you have a flint?"

She tosses him what he asks for, so he gets to work without further ado. By the time he has finished setting up the camfpire, Yuna has skinned the deer and cut off enough meat for a stew.

After insisting for her to go ahead and practice by herself, Jin takes care of putting together a few other herbs the monks at the cedar temple had given him, and tosses everything into the metal pot. He makes a mental note to check on it in a few minutes before he walks around the house, back to where Yuna had set up her target.

He returns just as another attempt of hers fails, the grip of the kunai hitting the wood with a dull _thump_ before it ricochets into the grass.

When Jin glances her way, he finds her looking much more annoyed than usual.

"I still can't tell _how_ you do this." She says, but her eyes don't leave her target for even a second. She's looking at it like it's her worst enemy, Jin _has_ to suppresses a chuckle. Taking another kunai from the bunch in her non-dominant hand, she tries again.

And succeeds this time, only that it digs itself into the tree, far above the target.

Jin makes sure not to step in her throwing range as he approaches.

"You're holding it wrong," He points at her right arm, going across her chest, above her left shoulder. "You won't be able to get a proper aim like that."

"It's how I've seen you do it."

"I start the throw from my hip," He explains, stepping behind her. Positioning the tip of his right sandal against her heel, he gives a light push. "Move your right leg forward if you're throwing with your right arm."

Jin steps a little closer once she does as she's told, looking at her hands over her shoulder. "Show me how you're holding the kunai."

"Like any other knife." She lifts her hand in front of herself for him to see. Her grip is a simple fist around it, as if she were holding a dagger.

Only when he reaches forward to readjust her grip, and her back touches his chest, does Jin realize how _close_ she is.

"Right..." He says, clearing his throat awkwardly. _Focus_ , he tells himself. _On the kunai, not on her._ "It gives you more control over how the blade spins if you..."

Yuna smells of campfire and grass; some stray hairs from her ponytail tickle his clavicle. She's—

 _Focus, Jin_ , he scolds himself again.

"...hold it like this." He lifts both his hands to grab a hold of hers, readjusting her grip around it so that her index rests over the width of the kunai, pointing the same way as the tip of the blade. "And don't wrap your other fingers around it, or you won't be able to let go of it on time."

"And now what?" She asks. Even her voice sounds somehow different, and better, from up close. When they're in such close proximity, it's usually at night, and she's whispering. He likes the change. "You said I'd have to start from my hip, and then just—"

She lowers her right hand across her torso to her left hip. In the process, she drags Jin's hand(which stupidly hasn't let go of her wrist yet) with her. His knuckles and forearm barely brush her lower abdomen through her kimono.

 _Focus on the kunai. Focus on the kunai, focus, focus, focus_ —

If someone else were watching them, Jin thinks, they would assume he's embracing her from behind, not teaching her knife throwing techniques.

What if he's forcing himself upon her? Is she doing this accidentally, and not realizing it? If she's realizing it, does she feel too uncomfortable to back down now? Or is she—

With a sudden, snappy move, Yuna whips her arm forward, letting the kunai glide out of her hand. It spins forward and, with what Jin guesses can only be luck, hits the target at its very edge.

"It worked." She says it like it's a pleasant surprise (which Jin guesses it is), and just like that, glides away out of the half embrace they had accidentally created, towards the tree. Completely unbothered, she begins to gather the kunai from both the target and the ground.

Jin can't deny the fact that he feels empty for a little more than a second.

Maybe he was overthinking and they hadn't even been that close?

Damn it, is he really acting like a teenager all over again? _Now?_

"You're a good teacher." Yuna speaks up as she returns to his side, pressing two blades into his palm. "Your turn."

He flips them in his hand, getting accustomed to their weight after not having used them for a short while. After a second or two, he steps into his usual stance, then, with a flick of his arm and wrist, sends both kunai flying simultaneously. Neither of them quite hit the middle, but they do both land on the target.

Yuna scoffs. Not in a way that's harsh, or judgmental like Ishikawa, but rather...humorously. "Show off," she says, and Jin huffs.

With a proud smile, he glances her way, and finds that she's already looking at him with something indecipherable in her eyes. Something good, though, judging by the way they shine just a bit.

"You're not the first one to be jealous," He teases. "Ryuzo would have killed to have my sword fighting form when we were young."

 _And he almost did kill you,_ he thinks. _For a different reason._

He wants to cuss himself out when he feels something in his chest sink unpleasantly, and he's forced to think about every life he didn't want to take but had to.

How foolish both Ryuzo and his uncle had been, but for completely opposing reasons.

One for a lack of loyalty, the other because of too much. Or maybe they both had been too loyal to what they thought mattered. Ryuzo to his straw hats, and his uncle to...someone above his rank. Someone he had never even met. Someone that held him in his hands as tightly as his uncle held everyone on this island, and for what? To decide between those who get to sit in their estates and eat fresh fish every evening and those who sleep with fear rooted deep into their bones and hope for starvation to take them before something else does?

Did not only honor, but also comfort come before Jin in his uncle's eyes? Had he himself been a mere tool, a convenience, even, because of Shimura's lack of an heir?

Or was that alone something he had dangled in front of Jin's nose to try to make him renounce the Ghost?

 _No_ , Shimura was a _good_ man. Jin remembers the tears in his uncle's eyes at their final duel. No man who only thought of Jin as a tool would have reacted in such a way, no man would have spent so many years raising him.

Shimura had respected him.

But then again, if he truly did care for Jin in the way a father does, wouldn't he have refused even the mere idea to kill him?

That question in itself brings another one, even more sinister and taunting.

Why didn't Jin refuse the idea to kill him, if he had thought of him as a father? Why couldn't he just walk away, refuse to murder his own family? What drove him to think that killing his uncle would lead him to honor, and peace? Why did he succumb to rules and custom he thought were long behind him—

"...and now you're just pretending not to notice to make me feel worse."

He snaps out of it when Yuna speaks above her usual tonality. When Jin hesitates with his answer, glances at the tree.

Two kunai stick into the target, one just shy of the center. Maybe she's not as much of an autodidact as him, but she picks up skills like no one else he's met.

"I was—" Jin pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Thinking?" She completes his sentence, and he gives a nod. The most embarrassing part is that this is nowhere near the first time she's caught him straying through his own brain. He feels like an untrained, stupid dog that does nothing but chase its tail all day when he does this. The worst part? He doesn't even know he's doing it until he's too dizzy and caught up.

Yuna's lingering glance on him makes him feel like she knows something he doesn't, but also shows traces of sympathy.

"Try not to dwell on everything." She speaks up, and, upon noticing that he's now able to focus on what she has to say, she continues. "Thoughts are... like a river. A dam holds, but if you keep building it higher and higher," She shakes her head. "It breaks after a while. I've tried."

They both fall silent, and he can even hear the crackle of the fire on the other side of the house.

"So what do I do?" He asks, hesitant. Just because she knows a certain method doesn't work, doesn't mean she knows the one that works. It's still worth a shot, so he takes a guess, continuing her metaphor. "Just let the river flow?"

"Yes. And learn to wade through icy river water." She walks over to the tree, starting to pry out the knives from the wood. "The cold won't bother you as much anymore. After a while."

Her words give him even more to think about, but not in the unpleasant way that the death of people he once held dear do. It feels a little like he's not so much chasing his own tail anymore, but taking a reluctant step forward. Or at least has been told how to.

When Yuna removes the kunai that had struck the target in the middle, he feels like words of encouragement would be needed. The last thing he wants to do is be like sensei Ishikawa.

"You're a fast learner," Is the first thing he can come up with.

"We both are." Yuna gives him a knowing, sympathetic smile. "I think I can hear the water boiling. We should check on the stew."

She's right, he thinks. Almost always is.

He remembers a chilly summer night when all the other boys in the village had gone for a swim in Omi lake and he was the only one that didn't dare join. Against his will, Ryuzo had pushed him into the water, and, in the very last moment, Jin had managed to drag his friend with him.

And remembers the both of them emerging with their hair sopping wet, heaving for air, but _laughing_.

Getting used to cold water when you have someone to do it with you is just a little less scary than it is to do it by oneself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter of these two having some MORE domesticity because lord knows they'll need it.
> 
> As for the kunai throwing explanations, I bullshitted my way through them. And I'm angry. Why?
> 
> Because Jin throws kunai like frisbees. No one else except for a kid that posted it on instructables.com 10 years ago does this. I've looked at at least 5 videos of experts explaining kunai & knife throwing and not ONE even mentioned a technique similar to Jin's (yes I've also wasted all my kunai and looked at his grip, stance and technique in photomode. Nothing lines up with the advice expert knife throwers give.) So yeah in the end I just decided to go with what we see in-game instead of actual expert advice, because pffssh, who needs that anyway. Am I right, @ Sucker Punch?


	23. Chapter 23

He'd like to think the Ghost can do just fine by himself, but that would be a lie. Jin is reliant on the ones he protects, and he realizes that now more than ever: riding back to the shack from Ichi's inn, two sacks of rice loaded onto Kage's back. Without the little people, he would starve. And without him, the Mongols would have gotten to most of them.

It's a back and forth that Jin hopes is fair, though he still feels guilty for buying the two sacks of rice from Ichi at half the price.

The good thing is that he has the cover of darkness still, and that he will most likely get back to the shack just in time — before dawn.

Yuna had insisted for him not to go, had suggested she would take care of it (which probably meant stealing, or going to Kushi temple to buy rice herself). One thing she did not seem to even take into account was going to Ichi for help a second time, and Jin decided not to pry.

But he also wasn't going to let her take care of their food supply, not when her wound had almost healed. The stitches would need to be removed any day now, why risk anything? He could do this simple task.

And the fact that his face was a little more recognizable than hers wasn't going to deter him either. Who could recognize Jin as the Ghost, except for the villagers in Omi? And the samurai he had fought with Yuna, who had now overtaken his estate? As long as he wasn't headed there, he'd be safe.

He's lucky Yuna had put away money throughout her years, even though it never got used for its intended purpose. They rely on that now. Jin knows it has _got_ to hurt to spend it on the survival of who, about six months ago, had been a mere stranger to her. It hurts him as well, more than just a little, to know that he depends on her for this. It's another painful reminder that he has lost everything. Almost everything.

It also hurts to know that he will never get to live another day as carelessly as he had before. Some mornings, just as he awakes, Jin remembers nothing for a few seconds. He only stops to wonder why his muscles ache, why his throat is so dry, where he is. The moment everything comes flooding back is arguably worse than any nightmare, simply because he is confronted with the truth.

He is an outlaw.

" _Fuck_ you, you bastards!" A boyish voice screams just as Jin and Kage reach the top of a small hill and start descending it. More shouting follows, mostly in Mongolian, and very little in Japanese.

In the distance, he can recognize a slim silhouette running, chased by two or three wider ones.

_Someone needs help._

Without hesitation, he takes his bow in hand and sprints forward, leaving Kage behind. His trusty steed seems to know, in his own way, that he has to stay put and wait.

As Jin approaches and starts getting an increasingly clearer view of the source of the tumult, he recognizes a total of four silhouettes. A skinnier one leads the way at a pace that only desperation and fear could create, too tall and lanky to be a girl. And he's followed by three armor-clad men.

As he continues running, not aiming, Jin puts an arrow in place. An already loaded bow will buy him a few seconds, and time can very often be of essence in matters of life and death.

If he can just get a little closer, he'll be able to have a decent aim—

Chaos ensues. The armored mongols stop in their tracks at the sound of Jin's steps, as does the boy they had been chasing. He knows no enemy nor friend, only urgency. Almost dropping something round, about the size of a fist, he lights the object on fire, and throws it at the mongols.

An explosion follows, and Jin's heart skips a beat at the realization that he had left all his weapons at the shack except for his bow and katana.

No dirty tricks are at his disposal.

The mongol that's furthest away from the explosion and takes almost no damage is the one that Jin shoots down.

And that's the last of them.

In spite of its unexpected turns, this rescue mission has ended with success, Jin thinks. What follows after this is mere routine: comforting the victim, making sure they know where to go, how to get there—

"Stay away or I'll blow you up too!" The boy shouts, and Jin realizes that his voice sounds worn, as if he had been crying.

In the moonlight, the boy's skin looks incredibly pale, glistening with sweat, strands of hair stuck to his forehead, chest heaving under his ragged clothes. He doesn't look a day over sixteen.

"I'll do you no harm," Jin tells him, then puts his bow away slowly, as if to prove his point. "What's your name?"

"I'm—..." He draws in another labored breath, still very much in recovery from running. The boy then hesitates, and only speaks after a measuring, estimating look. "Benjiro."

"Benjiro," Jin repeats, almost instinctively. Out of experience, he knows that calling a distressed person by their name helps calm them down, at least a little. "I'm...Jin. Where did you get those bombs?"

"I stole them. From the mongols. I wanted to blow them all up, to—" The boy heaves once again, still trying to catch his breath. While his chest rises and falls like crazy, he looks down at his own two hands, clenching his fists around the bomb and the flint. "To end it."

The mere assumption that killing the Khan would save anyone on this island had just been another distant dream. Jin's work is nowhere near being done, and that is, in a weird way, both the most discouraging and most encouraging realization of today.

"Where did they start chasing you?" He asks, keeping his voice firm. "I'll kill the rest of them."

The boy gives a dry, heaving laugh before he struggles to catch his breath again. "Hah, good luck with that, ronin. I escaped from Mamushi farmstead."

_He ran from there all the way here?_

Jin suppresses his surprise, decides to keep digging for information. When he and Yuna had first found the shack, he had told himself he would take care of the remaining mongols in the Mamushi farmstead. He hadn't yet. And now, or in a few days, could be a good time, especially since he has someone who knows the current state of it.

"Where are you headed?" Jin asks, and the boy looks at him like he's about to burst into tears again. But he gets a hold of himself before Jin can tell for sure.

"I didn't...think that far."

Damnit. Off just the top of his head, there are about three options he can think of where to take the boy. Kushi temple, a nearby survivor camp, or relatives. He doubts the final option even is an option, but he asks regardless.

"Is there anywhere I can take you? Do you have any family?"

"If he's still alive after this, then my only family is still in there." Benjiro says. "In the slave camp."

As if he had just realized that, the boy sets his hands on his thighs, looks down at the grass. By the way he inhales, Jin can tell he's holding back even another round of tears.

" _Shit_ , he's still in there." With one hand, he covers his mouth, ashamed of the way his voice sounds, and turns away from Jin. "And I ran. I _fucking_ ran."

That makes it two options. Unless, of course...

"Benjiro." He speaks up, which is enough to draw the boy's attention back to him. "We'll get your family out of there, you have my word. But you need to rest first. And then you need to help me think of a plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter which I hope wasn't too confusing. I figured I had let you guys catch your breath quite enough with those few fluffy chapters. We're back in business with the angst. Not that this chapter was very angsty, but I think you have a feeling about what's going to happen in the upcoming ones.


	24. Chapter 24

The crickets stop chirping once the sun starts rising.

What's left of the way to the shack goes by much slower than it should. Benjiro follows, though Jin often has to call out his name to make him keep up.

He knows the feeling, knows how it gets to someone. The shock is just settling in, he's sure the boy has much to think about and no idea how to handle it. He truly wishes there was some kind of advice he could offer (the way Yuna does so often), but he's clueless.

"Just into the forest, up this hill, and we'll be there," He tells him, and Benjiro only gives a nod. Jin's not sure what he expected, but his respect for Yuna grows, only because of the fact that she dealt with him while he was still in a state like Benjiro's.

"Jin, you're back." Yuna's voice causes his focus to snap back to his surroundings. He doesn't get a chance to answer, her gaze drifts away from him, to Kage. "And you brought rice—" She sighs before she speaks again. "I told you I would—"

He's about to retort, but once Benjiro enters her line of sight, she goes completely silent. He's unable to interpret her expression, but one thing can certainly be read out of it. She was expecting many things, but not him bringing a boy — a teenager— to their momentary home.

"Yuna, this is Benjiro."

—

Once the water is boiling and the rice has been added in, Yuna practically leaps Jin's way, grabbing his hand by the wrist and dragging him away. Benjiro is smart enough to know what that means, so he stays beside the fire, staring into the flames.

Once they're inside the shack she stops, turning to face him.

"I need explanations, Jin. I need them fast."

"I saved him." He tells her earnestly. The look in her eyes melts into one of compassion, but the urgency from before remains present. "I was going to take him to a survivor's camp, but...he needs help. And so does the rest of his family."

She sighs, Jin can tell she wants to say something among the lines of " _You can't save everyone_ ", but she refrains. Yuna knows that would mean going against Jin's very nature; he'd rather die trying than quit.

After a long inhale, she speaks.

"How do we help?"

"I will go back and free his family from a camp he escaped from," Jin explains. "You don't have to do anything, Yuna. Your wound is still healing."

"If you think I'm just going to sit around while you do the fighting, you're wrong." She says it like it pains her, and in a few seconds time, Jin understands why. "I've made that mistake before."

He knows what she means. Fort Koyasan. Taka. She had refused to fight that day.

But this is different. This was Mamushi farmstead, a place she hadn't been able to enter even when she wanted to. Jin could never forgive himself if he knew that Yuna had gone against her own wishes just to provide help.

"Where did he escape from?" She asks, and Jin almost chokes on his own breath. It's a question he should have anticipated, but he hadn't come up with an answer that was just the right amount of precautious. Not yet.

"He escaped from..." There is no point in hiding it, Jin thinks. He doesn't want to tiptoe around the truth, Yuna can handle this. "Mamushi farmstead. The mongols are still there, even after we killed the brothers. And I need to put an end to it."

" _You_ killed the brothers?"

At the sound of a new voice, he turns to face the source.

It's Benjiro. He's looking at Jin with wide eyes, his throat bobs.

"I mean— The rice is ready." The boy rushes to cover up his question, then turns around and hurries back to the fire.

Yuna steps forward, heading in Benjiro's direction.

"We only have two bowls." She tells him. "You and Jin will eat first."

Jin tries to argue, but she shuts him down quickly. He was the one to procure the rice while she had been sleeping, it's only fair he eats first. He wants to argue with that, but he can't. He's hungry.

As he and Benjiro both sit on the ground beside the campfire and start eating, Yuna returns with a short branch in hands, and joins them.

He and Benjiro sit in complete silence, it reminds Jin of the dinners with his uncle when he had done something to upset him. Only that now, he feels like he's the uncle.

Yuna bows forward, starts to guide the branch she had brought through the earth like a _yatate_. The lines she draws form a shape, which, Jin realizes after a moment's thinking, resembles the Mamushi farmstead, but seen through the eyes of a hawk.

"Finished eating?" She asks the boy with a gesture at his bowl, and he gives a nod. At his answer, Yuna snaps her branch in two, and holds one half out for him. "Good. Show me where you escaped."

He leaves the bowl on the ground, then, moving to kneel beside Yuna, he takes the stick from her.

"The back entrance." He says, pointing at the drawing in the mud.

"Beside the house in which the brothers used to sleep?" She looks up at him through her lashes, smiles with a scoff. "You've got guts."

The boy looks like he has a question on the tip of his tongue, but he refrains.

"The mongols sleep there, now. The important ones, at least." Clearing his throat, Benjiro looks at the map more closely. "My brother hid in the tall grass while the mongols were rounding us up and taking us to sleep. "

Yuna points at the drawing with the dull end of her stick. "And this is where they take you to sleep, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Jin walks over to the hot spring as he listens to their conversation and rinses the bowl Benjiro had eaten out of before filling it back up with rice.

"...after they realized my brother was missing, he ran straight for the exit. They caught him before he made it, so I wanted to distract them and remembered they keep weapons where they sleep. That's where I found the bombs. After that, all eyes were on me, and I just...ran."

Jin taps Yuna's shoulder, offers her the bowl. She thanks him with a smile that almost makes him melt. If it weren't for their current conversation.

"I found him on the hills north of Ichi's inn." Jin adds. "Three mongols were chasing him, and once they saw me and stopped..."

"I used the bomb." Benjiro finishes his sentence. Yuna looks at the boy with what most would interpret as neutrality, but Jin knows for sure is just concealed surprise.

"How do you think we could get in?" Jin asks, and Benjiro shakes his head, sighs.

"I'm not sure. Ever since the brothers and Atlan died, the mongols aren't as organized anymore. But that doesn't even the odds enough."

"I've beat less even odds." Jin tells him, which earns a curious look from the boy. "Last time I snuck in, it was through the front gate. But that was more advantageous for killing the brothers, not the mongols."

"Since they sleep up here," Yuna says, drawing a circle on the makeshift map. "We should sneak in from the back gate."

Sounds like enough of a plan. Still, there is a flaw that worries him.

"But how do we keep the slaves safe?" Jin asks. "You said they sleep there, closer to the front entrance. We'll be further away from them if we attack like that. If we get caught, the mongols might use that against us."

"They cut off fingers sometimes." Benjiro speaks up, he says it like it's routine. "Or pull out toe nails."

"That used to be the nice treatment." Yuna answers, and Jin hopes to the gods she's joking. But that would make things far too easy. "How would you say the mongols are spread out throughout the farmstead at night, Benjiro?" Yuna turns her glance to the boy before she takes another gulp of the rice.

"At least two of them at the front gates. If not more. I've sometimes seen groups of three or four. Two beside the tent they keep us in at night. Two at the back gate. And the rest of them in that shack up there, sleeping."

"I could attack from the front by myself. Take out the ones there, then make my way to the slaves." She explains, picking up her stick from the ground and drawing an arrow to showcase her direction.

Fighting is one thing, but splitting up? Jin knows there will be no way of protecting her if they follow this plan.

He feels obligated to insist her help isn't necessary for him to succeed, even though it would help. And even though he knows very well that she's thick-headed.

"Yuna, I can do this by myself."

"You are."

Her words shock him. At first, until she explains. She draws another arrow towards the drawing, but it's opposing hers.

"You'll sneak in from the back. Take down as many of them as you can silently, then fight the rest. I'll keep them away from the slaves."

He'd be lying if he said he liked the idea, but it sounds better than any other plan he could try to come up with.

"We'll crush them between us," he concludes, and Yuna smiles.

"Exactly."

Her gaze is positively electrifying, he feels almost as alive as he did before facing the Khan.

Maybe this isn't so bad. Maybe they can actually do this and get away unscathed.

"I thought you two were just a ronin and his onna-bugeisha, but...hearing you talk like this..." Benjiro shakes his head, gestures at their drawing on the ground. "If you weren't on my side, you both would be like... like demons. And you killed the brothers, too, what—"

He blinks. Once, twice, then his eyes go wide.

"You're— Are you the Ghost? If the Ghost is real?"

He doesn't know what to answer to that. And luckily, he doesn't have to: Yuna intervenes before he can.

She sets her empty bowl on the ground, then, holding onto Jin's shoulder as she rises, she gestures for Benjiro to follow.

"You look tired, boy. I'll lend you my mat, so you can catch some sleep."

"You didn't answer my question."

"You said you were happy we were on your side. Let's not change that." She nods towards the house. "Come on."

Yuna is an expert when it comes to shutting down retorts; but she's had time to practice. Benjiro follows her after a second of reluctance. Through the window, Jin sees Yuna position her mat in the bigger room of the shack, away from the small space they usually kept them in.

After another minute or so, she returns outside, plopping beside Jin.

"You handled it well," He says. "The boy's curiosity."

Jin looks at her, but she doesn't. Her gaze is fixated on the trees in front of her, Yuna seems thoughtful.

"I have practice."

She's not being pensive. Yuna's worried, Jin can tell.

"You don't have to do anything, you know." He can tell she registers his words, but Yuna still looks as if her mind is someplace far away. "I know it can be terrifying for you to return there, and I don't want..." Jin closes his eyes, inhales. "You don't have to do this for me."

Silence seems to weigh down on him as he awaits her answer. Yuna's glance follows the falling leaves before it lifts and finally finds Jin's.

"I have to do this for _me_." She tells him. "The brothers are gone. A place doesn't scare me, or at least it shouldn't. I want it out of my nightmares, Jin. Everything about the slave camp."

"And you think going back would help?"

She shrugs, pinches the bridge of her nose, then leans back on her elbows. "I'm hoping so."

It's a guess at best, but she looks like she wants to take a gamble when it comes to making things just a little easier for herself. He gets that.

"I don't know if I could ever go back to the cemetery where I fought my uncle," He admits. Jin looks at the ground, at the scribble of the map. "And I didn't spend many awful years there."

When Yuna looks at him, she gives a soft, sympathetic smile, accompanied by a hum. Jin can't figure out how to interpret it.

"Your wound is still fresh." She says. "Mine isn't, at least not this one. It needs to finish healing."

Jin understands what she means, he's just hoping healing herself is her only motive. That's what matters almost as much as making sure that the people still caught in the slave camp get out alive.


	25. Chapter 25

It's noon, leaves are falling all around him, and the familiar breeze is nowhere to be felt. Everything seems suspiciously quiet. Jin still can't bring himself to trust the silence.

"The boy's still asleep, isn't he?"

Yuna's voice disrupts the tranquility, and causes him to look up from the bowl of tea in his hands. He gives her a quick nod.

"He must be catching up to months, if not years of restless nights," Jin says. Benjiro should take advantage of his own fatigue while he still can; it doesn't do much for Jin's nightmares anymore. Even tiredness has its limits when it comes to keeping certain demons away.

Yuna hums affirmatively at his words, moving to sit down beside him. In her hands, she holds what looks like a old, worn roll of leather.

Stroking her thumb over its surface, she smiles. "I remember how Taka slept after we escaped from the farmstead. He could barely walk after midnight. I found an old, abandoned shack like this one, somewhere in old Yarikawa. The moment he laid down, he was out. I couldn't wake him until the next day's sundown."

In Jin's mind, her monologue only brings up another question. Is she going back into the slave camp not only for herself, but for Taka?

Facing one's own fears and mental scars not just for oneself, but to honor someone you hold dear is, in Jin's eyes, the absolute height of nobleness.

Which only makes himself look worse in his own eyes.

What had he done to honor his uncle? Yuna had given Taka a burial, and is planning on going back to the place that had haunted their nightmares to put an end to it. What had _he_ done all this time, except for a succession of running and hiding? How will he ever keep his final promise to Shimura, how will he ever make sure his uncle is remembered, if Jin himself is a Ghost? Metaphorically before, and almost hauntingly literal way.

Yuna must have sensed the turmoil within him, she clears her throat to gain his attention.

"You should get some sleep too, Jin." She advises. "We'll attack after midnight, you'll need it."

Sitting cross-legged at his side, she's carefully unrolling the sheet of leather she had been holding, which contains a few tools: a needle, a pair of tweezers, a small pair of scissors, and a thread.

"What will you do?" He asks instead, then looks towards the shack. There's only one mat left, and she doesn't look like she's planning on catching some sleep.

"Removing the stitches on my wound, and then I'll see."

"Where did you get those tools?"

"A long time ago. Taka made them for me." She tells him. "He had just finished his apprenticeship, and wanted to try his hand at smaller tools too, not only weapons or armor."

Indeed, in spite of the small scratches on the metal that attest to years upon years of use, the scissors and the tweezers look undoubtedly well-crafted.

"Had you left these in Jogaku with our other things before I had gone to meet my uncle?" He asks, and she shakes her head no.

"I always keep them with me, just in case." When Yuna catches a glimpse of his questioning expression, she continues. "If you're wondering why I didn't stitch you up back when I had just found you, it's because it was an arrow wound, and also on top of bone. I'm not _that_ good of a healer."

"It mended just fine." Jin assures, then lifts the hem of his kimono to peek at his shoulder, as if to confirm his statement. There's still a small scab left, and the skin around it does show signs of a scar. Luckily, mobility in his shoulder had remained mostly intact. But that's not what he had been curious about.

"Why didn't you tell me you had it when the samurai had hurt you?" He asks, smoothing his kimono back into place. "Maybe you wouldn't have...been out for so long."

Yuna huffs, half amused, half sympathetic. "Because you're not a healer. It's better you got me to Jogaku and didn't lose time trying to take care of my wound on your own."

"But what if I could have?" Jin insists, and Yuna looks away. "I could have avoided you being gone for so long, and I—"

 _And I wouldn't have spent all those nights blaming myself for you dying,_ he completes his sentence mentally. Yuna gets the point, there is no good reason to mention his guilt in this context. First and foremost, he wants to learn how to tend to wounds for practical reasons, not because he wants to calm his own conscience.

"There is no harm in learning," Yuna admits. She sighs, but not in a way that's annoyed, or apathetic. More like she's gathering herself, her own thoughts. "Alright. Bring a rag and clean your hands."

—

If he thought being in close proximity to her while teaching her how to throw kunai was causing his heart to jump out of his chest, this was on a whole different level. Both the maddening closeness and the ever-present fear of hurting her without meaning to makes his own pulse feel like it's about to explode with the power of ten mongol bombs.

She's sitting on a log a bit further away from the campfire, bandage around her midriff gone, lifting her kimono just enough to allow access to the healing injury. Jin's kneeling on the ground at her side, facing towards her.

With careful hands, he cleans the wound, doing his damndest to focus on _her_. Not that that is difficult in itself, but steering clear of intrusive thoughts proves to be something he's unable to do.

Not when her chest rises and falls with every single breath, skin stretching taut over her ribs and abdominal muscles. To Jin, Yuna somehow looks as graceful as cat.

His face is so close to her skin, and a long-forgotten impulse drives him forward, making him want to let his hands roam her torso, further away from her injury, up her ribs, up, up, up, until—

Jin can't believe what's going through his head for a good second, and for the first time in years, he genuinely wants to jump straight into the hot spring or slap himself. Anything to regain composure, really.

She's a _friend_ , and he should dedicate his focus to more important things, such as not accidentally causing her any pain.

"Does it look clean enough?" She asks, moving the kimono she's holding up just a little more.

Swallowing a mouthful of his own saliva, Jin nods, hoping to every deity his face isn't as red as he thinks it might be.

"Then give me the rag, and take the scissors and tweezers," she instructs, and he follows. Settling back down at her side, he looks at the array of tools. "See the knot?"

He gives a curt 'yes'.

"Pull it up with the tweezers, then cut the string under the knot, close to the skin. Pull it out of the wound at an angle, not directly upwards."

 _Should be easy enough_ , Jin thinks. And it is. Once he gets over the initial squeamishness caused by the fear of hurting her, and actually manages to focus on the stitches themselves, cutting and removing the string comes almost naturally to him.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you," Jin asks of her, and Yuna scoffs with amusement.

"I'm not worried. You have steadier hands than most people on this island."

His eyes flick upwards, and he peeks at her face for a heartbeat.

He doesn't let kind words get to him, at least not usually. Every compliment he receives is stored in a little box, somewhere in the back of his mind, and he only revisits it when he feels exceptionally down.

But this is different. Now, he feels unusually smug.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He can't hold back a little smile, and Yuna is very quick to look away.

"That you're a very skilled..." She pauses. "...swordsman."

Her tone is something new.

Jin's not sure if he's ever heard Yuna hesitate before. She's firm and precise with the way she talks, very unlike right now.

"Careful. Your hands might start to shake if you get too happy about me saying nice things." She rushes to add after a pause. "And I'd hate to take my compliment back."

 _There it is_. He should have seen it coming, really.

Not that he minds — after all, it's always fun to engage in a little bit of back and forth with her.

With as smooth of a tone as he can muster, Jin answers. "It takes more than that to make my hands shake, Yuna."

Their gazes connect, and her expression mirrors his. Complacent smile twisting her lips upwards, she glances at him from above, and Jin has to look away before he gets flustered.

"Good. I don't need another big scar," she tells him. In unison, they both chuckle, and under his touch, Yuna's skin turns to goosebumps.

It doesn't take much longer until he has finished removing stitches from her skin. It looks redder than before, undoubtedly irritated, but there is no blood to be seen. That has to mean he did a decent job.

"It's done. Do you want me to help you with the bandages, too?"

She smiles. "You've done enough healing for a day. Just bring me the balm the monks gave us."

As Yuna uses her knife to cut a decent amount of bandage and starts wrapping up her injury, Jin returns with what she had asked, then rolls the leather sheet back together.

"I thought it would be more difficult than this," He admits as he sets the roll down beside her.

"It still requires precision," She tells him while she begins wrapping the bandage around her torso. "And making the stitches is _very_ different from removing them. You shouldn't get ahead of yourself."

"I learned to write faster than anyone my sensei had taught before me." It's not something he likes to flaunt, especially not on the battlefield, but he figures now is a good time to do so. "I think I could pick stitching up quickly enough, too."

"I don't doubt it." Yuna tells him. "Though you have to admit that stitching is much more useful than writing."

"Writing has its uses, too," He argues, and Yuna looks at him skeptically.

"I'm neither a noblewoman that needs to read my suitors' poems, nor do I plan on writing a letter to the shogun. What would writing bring me?"

"It can keep you sane," Jin wavers for a moment, staring off into the distance. Now that he mentions it, he can't remember the last haiku he wrote, but it had to be a few weeks before he had faced the Khan. He also realizes how much he's missing it. "Paper will always be patiently soaking up the thoughts you need to put into words."

Yuna lets out an amused chuckle. "You have spoken like a true poet." She's not ridiculing him, if anything, she seems to attempt covering up her surprise.

"I'm far from being one." Jin doesn't know what to say other than that, so he doesn't say anything else. The quiet that follows isn't awkward, they both switch to watching the embers of their campfire give off their last flickers, preoccupied with their own thoughts.

"I'll check on the boy. I'll see if he's awake so we can both get some sleep too." Jin pipes up after the last remnants of their campfire die out.

Yuna gives a nod.

When he rises from the ground and cracks his back, the last thing he expects is a gentle grip around his wrist.

"Actually...Can you stay with me?" She asks, and Jin couldn't even dream of saying no. "A little while longer?"

Without a single protest, he seats himself back down beside her easily.

And that is when her expression goes from hopeful to somehow remorseful.

"I hope you're not doing this just because I asked you to..." Yuna rubs her hands together, shakes her head. "What I said still stands. If you really are tired, you should go to sleep."

She's having second thoughts about asking him to stick around, he realizes. That makes him feel unusually warm somewhere near his heart; Jin is always happy to reassure her. He barely shifts half a step closer to her, but their shoulders are already touching.

"I'm sure that would be the wiser thing to do, but I'd rather not be alone with my thoughts for too long." At his words, Yuna snorts with amusement.

"That makes two of us," She jokes, but her tone holds nothing except truth. "At times like these, it's not going to bring me anything if I ponder on what's to come too much."

"It's best to just face things when you have to," Jin agrees. "But avoiding thinking has never been easy."

"For you, I don't doubt it. You're always in your head. Even though you try so hard to hide it."

She's caught him red handed.

"It is a little easier to not dwell on things if you have someone else around. Especially if it's someone you can talk to." Jin argues, and Yuna smiles softly. She moves on the ground so that her upper back rests against the log behind them.

"Tell me more about writing, then." She encourages him. "How it works, what you write, anything that comes to mind."

Jin smiles, pleasantly taken aback by her sudden interest. He'll have to teach her sometime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY fun history fact: Scissors and tweezers have existed LONG before Jin and Yuna? I'm talking literal centuries? I don't know why this shocked me so much, but here you guys go! One final, fluffy chapter. Get ready.


	26. Chapter 26

"Samurai. Wake up." A hand on his shoulder causes Jin to stir out of his sleep. When he opens his eyes, he sees Benjiro, crouching in front of him, face illuminated in the moonlight. He looks a little better now, more rested. "It's midnight."

Jin had been having a strange dream — the voices of his uncle, Ryuzo and the Khan had all mashed into one formless being that was chasing him through a bamboo forest. He doesn't know what to make of it, and frankly, he doesn't want to make anything of it. His back hurts — he had fallen asleep on the ground, with his head rested against the log beside the campfire, Jin realizes. Beside Yuna. He can't remember what exactly happened, other than them talking and talking and talking until he felt somewhat doozy and decided to lay back. The rest is history, he supposes. Yuna lays beside him, one hand placed on his sternum, head on his shoulder. The thought of waking her almost hurts.

"Get ready," Jin tells the boy. "I'll be with you shortly."

"There's nothing I need to prepare. I have no weapons."

"Then prepare yourself," Jin advises, and, scoffing at his answer, Benjiro walks off.

It only takes a light shake of her shoulder for Yuna to awake with a sharp inhale.

"It's almost midnight," He tells her as she opens her eyes slowly. She tenses against him, back cracking as she lifts her shoulders. "We need to get ready and leave."

"I'll..." She stifles a yawn, then rubs at her eyes. "I'll gather the weapons. You prepare the horses."

—

"What's the deal with the woman and the Mamushi brothers?" Benjiro speaks up behind Jin. Yuna leads the way on Hotaru, and Kage is trying his best to keep up with the pace as he's now carrying two people. "She knew the camp like the back of her hand," The boy adds.

"It's not my place to tell you." Jin's answer is plain, but he doesn't even have to look at Benjiro to know he's frowning. "I'm just saving as many of my people as I can."

"Why?" The boy asks. It's obviously unusual to hear a samurai or a ronin care about peasants, much less slaves, Jin can see where Benjiro's curiosity comes from.

But he doesn't have to think twice about an explanation. "Because I swore to protect everyone on this island with my life."

A pause follows, filled only with the thundering of hooves.

"I don't want to ruin it for you, but," Benjiro speaks on a tone that isn't sarcastic, but rather half-angry. "You're not doing the greatest job."

"Have you seen any mongols outside of the slave camp so far?"

The boy gives a thoughtful hum. "No."

"Think about that."

Jin would never let it show, but the boy's words take him a second more than usual to shake off. Benjiro isn't wrong — there's still _so_ much left to do. So many mongol outposts left to take out, so many criminals to kill.

But Jin cuts him some slack. Benjiro most likely hasn't seen the outside of the slave camp in months or years, there's no way he could have noticed that the number of mongols on the island had started to thin out, little by little.

Not like that would be the end of it, obviously. Even before the invasion, there had been so much injustice happening on the island. Jin had just never bothered to look with his own eyes; he'd chosen to believe his uncle's words. He had blindly eaten up every single lie: that the samurai had brought back order and that everything was in its place.

Foolish.

Yuna tugs on Hotaru's reins, easing her into a slow halt. Jin follows her example.

"Let's walk from here," She tells him, turning to glance at him and the boy over her shoulder. "We best not let them hear us coming."

Jin waits for Benjiro to hop off Kage before he dismounts as well.

"How can I help?" The boy asks.

"By staying here," Jin says, as sternly as he can. Judging by the look on Benjiro's face, his words have done nothing to change his mind.

"No, not while my brother's in there," The boy insists. "I'll go either with you, or with your woman, I don't care. I just want to help."

Jin ignores the final part, inhaling as he tries to decide between thinking of something to say convince the boy to stay or intimidating him into it.

Yuna makes eye contact with him, her eyes glistening daringly in the moonlight. She looks like a coil that's about to snap, but in a good way. "Let him come with me if he wants to. I've fought with a teenage boy by my side before."

"Good," The boy exhales, relief on his face obvious. "But I don't have weapon, other than the bomb I stole.

"The blade of the first mongol I kill is yours," she answers. In a smooth movement, she takes her knife from her belt, flipping it in her hand with unmatched ease. Jin doesn't know what exactly about it he finds so captivating, but he knows it takes him a second or two to tune back into the conversation.

"Do you know how to reach the back gate?" She asks him.

Blinking, Jin looks at Yuna, then gives a nod.

"I'll try not to get too close to the camp until I reach it."

"Good. We'll go this way," She explains, pointing to her right. "And attack from the front. You'll see me once I reach the shack where the slaves sleep."

As he's about to step away in the opposite direction, Benjiro interjects.

"And you're _sure_ just the _two_ of you are enough for a whole camp?"

Yuna smiles, in a way that makes Jin's guts rise in a pleasant way, like a jump from a high spot would. And when she looks at him, he's not sure he can stand the intensity in her gaze.

"With Jin on out side, the mongols should be doubting their numbers."

With that, they part.

Jin hopes he can prove Yuna right.

—

There's a platform at the front entrance, which makes approaching it all the more difficult. But, armed with caution and his blowgun, Jin manages to take care of them. The only real problem arises once they tip off the platforms, their corpses hitting the earth with a dull sound, alerting a few other mongols.

 _Damnit_.

He can handle them if they come his way, maybe even take them all out quietly. The mongols just don't have to find Yuna, or go anywhere near the slaves.

In a single move, he lights a firecracker, then tosses it a few steps away from the pampas grass he's hiding in.

Five mongols approach it, all of them looking at it cluelessly before one of them speaks up, his voice a fearful whisper.

"Ene bol süns yum!" (Tr: It's the ghost!)

Jin knows to use the ruckus caused by the firecracker to his advantage, and sneaks forward. The rustle of the leaves remains unheard to the mongols, just as intended. With careful steps, he nears the spot where the tall grass ends.

Another one of the mongols clears his throat, then gestures for them to leave. "Khen negen bidentei zügeer l khutgaldaj baina. Booluudyg böörönkhiil." (Tr: Someone is messing with us. Round up the slaves.)

Jin analyzes the distance between the five of them, and tries to figure out how to take all of them out in a chain assassination.

He doesn't get the chance.

"Khen negen zülgen dotor nuugdaj baina!" (Tr: Someone is hiding in the grass!)

Realizing that he's been discovered, Jin jumps out of his cover, pushing the katana straight through the man's belly. When he tugs it back out against the momentum of his leap, blood sprays over the ground.

In two, perfectly automated movements, he retrieves two kunai from his belt, flicks both with one hand. The first blade gets stuck in a mongol's throat, and the second in another man's forehead. Within seconds, they both drop. Two more enemies left.

One of them has been struck by the most effective blade of all: fear. With just a small whimper, he drops his sword, running not back into the camp, but straight for the hills. Jin makes quick work of the final mongol, a spearman, spinning with the entirety of his body to increase the weight of his hit. He breaks the man's defence down with one blow, then places a slash across his chest the next second.

And that is it, for now.

He's getting back into his old rhythm, Jin realizes. It took him a while to recover his old muscle memory after it had worked against him when he had faced his uncle, but he's glad to have embraced it more fully now. Killing like this is what makes him the Ghost, it's both perfectly graceful and efficient.

If he can keep it things going just the way they have up until now, the entirety of the slave camp should be empty by sunrise—

A not so distant explosion catches his attention as he flicks the blood off his sword. A bomb.

He hopes to every god above that it's Benjiro's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies for the long wait, and thank you kindly for your patience. My week has been super duper busy, but I really wanted to give you guys something to read. It ain't much, but it's honest work. And it's also setting up the much more interesting chapter that's to come.


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